Weight of a Name
by Terenia
Summary: He was a great warrior, a protector, a Prince. He was my father." This is the story of Allora, who must learn to reconcile the fact that her father has become the host for The Abomination, Visser Three.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the story of one of the minor characters from The Traitor one of my other works. Don't worry if you haven't read The Traitor, you don't need to. Although I would encourage you to! This will be a longer piece. I have about six chapters written and am planning for around fifteen total.**

**If this first chapter strikes you as a little dry, don't be alarmed. It's mostly setting the scene for the rest of the story (which is also why it is a bit shorter). Please R/R - criticism is appreciated, flames are not.**

**Parenthesis ( ) are used to indicate thought-speech.**

**I do not own KA or any of her characters. Happy reading,**

**-T.**

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**Chapter One**

It was quite a lovely day for dreaming, and I had made my way to the perfect spot for such an activity. I doubted that anyone would find me here, in this small meadow tightly surrounded by trees. The layout of the land was such that one could feel as if they were outdoors and, simultaneously, enclosed in a room of leaf and bark. The result was that most Andalites avoided this place in favor of the more open pastures beyond. So I was, effectively, left alone to ponder.

My particular point of bemusement for the day was one which I had considered before and would do so many, many times again. The issue at hand was my name.

It is rare for an Andalite female to be named for her father. I was only just becoming aware of just what an oddity it was. I was quite young still, and had just begun schooling. Everyone at the Academy had very gender specific names like Serifilan, Merterum and Geranil if they happened to be male, or the softer Erana, Loneara, and Jinorea for the females. My name fell somewhere in the middle. An altered version of my fathers, it was too soft to be male, and yet too harsh to be female.

I hadn't truly noticed the difference until it was pointed out to me, by a less than tactful peer of mine with a gorgeous name to make up for it: Estrelena. She mocked me, asking why my tail blade was so small for a boy and whether or not I would be filing a complaint with the Electorate. It was then that I realized I was different.

My mother had often told me to be proud of my name. I knew that in reality they had been under the assumption that they were to have a son, and when I popped out instead they had to think fast. Even with our advanced technology, mistakes do happen. My elder sister, who had been a girl as predicted, got to have a name that was entirely her own. Still, my mother liked to pretend that what I was called was accompanied by some sort of purpose or duty.

You will be like your father. She would say, It is your duty to be honorable, for his sake.

As I said, I was young, and those words made little sense to me. I assumed that my parents hoped I would become a great warrior, like my father. But that couldn't be it, because I was female, and these were the days before our gender was widely accepted in the military. My father himself was stringently against it.

That particular day, early in my academic career, was when I first realized just how heavy a weight would be placed upon my shoulders, for such a small thing as a name. Sighing, I dipped my hoof into a nearby stream and allowed the cool refreshment to slide up my leg, remembering the events after school that day.

I had known something was wrong the moment I arrived at our scoop. Both mother and Foresha, my sister, were there, looking sullen and speaking to one another privately. When I walked up, they shot a knowing glance at one another and Foresha left, giving me a fleeting smile as she went.

(What is it?) I asked, looking at my mother in confusion. She pawed a nervous hoof and beckoned me closer. Feeling a flicker of wariness, I obeyed.

(I received news earlier today from your father.) She began. I felt my hearts lift with excitement. My father had been in space for many months now, trying to defeat the Yeerk scourge. We had not heard from him in weeks.

(What news?) I asked, keeping my voice calm and respectful, as I had been taught.

(Now, dear, you understand that this is confidential.) My mother said, looking me over as if to see whether or not I was worthy of this information, (Don't go chatting to your friends about this.)

(Of course not mother.) I said, deciding that I would rather not mention the lack of friends I had to give any information, confidential or not.

(Well, it appears that…well, the battle for the Hork-Bajir planet. It was lost. All forces there have been forced to retreat. ) Mother said, one hand placed comfortingly on the area of my back that met my lower body.

(Is…is father okay?) I asked, trying to conceal my fear. My family was not one to be emotional, and I knew that if he were present, my father would scold me for showing too much. Inside, though, I felt lightheaded. If anything had happened to my father...

(He is alive.) My mother said shortly, (and uninjured. He will be returning to the homeworld shortly.)

(Then…this is good news?) I asked, unsure. If father was coming home, why did mother seem so upset?

(No, it is not good news.) My mother answered stonily. (An entire species has been lost to the Yeerks. What's more, your father is on trial. The entire force which was present on the Hork-Bajir world is on trial.)

(Trial? But…) I hesitated. What in the world could my father be on trial for? _My _father, who fought to protect us every day – how could he possibly have done something wrong? (Mother, what happened?)

(I do not know.) She said, and I could hear the lie in her thought-speak. (But listen to me, dear. I need you to listen carefully. Can you do that?)

I nodded mutely, wondering what was going on. I could feel my entire world shifting beneath me as my mother spoke. (It is our duty to be there for your father as he goes through this difficult time. We need to ease his pain. You and I know that no matter what happened on that planet, your father did it in our best interest. You understand that, correct?)

(Yes, mother.) I responded quickly, eager to get away and be alone with my racing thoughts, (May I please be excused?)

My mother nodded her ascent. (Yes, Allora. Go.)

And so here I was, among the whispering trees in a shady meadow, pondering this new world. I couldn't imagine my father – my strict, but loving father – doing anything horrible enough to warrant an Electorate trial. If it was my mother and sister's duty to protect father, it was twice mine. After all, I bore his name. Everywhere I went, people would be reminded of one of the greatest warriors of the modern age: War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corass.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Chapter Two! I'm going to wait a few days before posting chapter three. I want to finish writing a few ahead. Enjoy this chapter, though. Don't forget to review!**

**-T.**

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**Chapter Two**

For some time it seemed as if the world was being held in precarious balance. The trials were not well publicized, and my sister and I were forbidden to attend. The little information we received came from my mother when she returned, bleary eyed and exhausted.

(It is the same.) She would always say, when we asked for an update, (The Electorate has not reached a decision. You must be patient, my children.)

(But mother,) I protested, (_What _do they need to reach a decision on? What happened?)

She did not respond that night or any other. My father, though he was back on the homeworld, did not come home. He and the others involved with the Hork-Bajir world were being held within the watchful gaze of the Electorate. There weren't even rumors to satisfy my curiosity: all of my school mates were unaware as of yet that the battle for RG-021578-4, the Hork-Bajir world, had been lost.

This situation left my sister and I alone to speculate. We came up with wild scenarios, each more ridiculous than the last. The Yeerks had tortured information from our father's troops, the Yeerks had staged a massacre, the Andalites had been tricked into losing the war. Every idea played off of the fact that the Yeerks were at fault. My father was not guilty of any crime – of that I was positive. He had been framed. Worse, he had been framed by the _Yeerks._

I felt a shiver of hatred run through my body every time I thought about my father being outsmarted by such a vile species. Clearly there was a missing piece of the puzzle, and I longed to find it out. While the trials were going on, however, I could only wait and hypothesize.

One day, as my sister and I trotted back to our scoop from feeding, we were suddenly met by a familiar thought-speech cry.

(Foresha! Allora!) The low, soothing quality of his voice gripped me with excitement.

(Father!) I cried, pushing myself into a full gallop for the final sprint home. There, at the entrance to our scoop, stood Alloran, solid and stern as always, but looking pleased. I reached him first, and we embraced, him taking my cheeks in his hands.

(Allora, how are you?) He asked, his eyes wide with joy.

(I am well, father.) I responded, pulling away so that he could embrace my sister as well. (How are you?)

(Now that I am home, I am wonderful.) Alloran said, turning to lead the two of us into the scoop. My mother was waiting, looking as happy as any of us. I felt a deep contentment settle over me. _It's over_. I thought happily, _Whatever it is – it's over._

We chatted animatedly late into that evening. My father was content to sit back and listen as Foresha and I told him all about school and the events that had occurred in his absence. At one point I asked him what it had been like on the Hork-Bajir world, but he stiffened and changed the subject. I did not make the mistake of bringing it up a second time.

(It's wonderful that father is home at last.) I commented to Foresha after both of my parents had gone off to talk privately. I should have been tired, as it was very late, but my mind was wild with excitement.

(Yes, it is.) She agreed, It will be nice having him around, even if it is only for a little bit.

(What are you talking about?) I asked.

(Oh come on, Allora. Don't be naïve. Father is still a warrior. A War-Prince. They will call him back to duty soon.) Foresha said. I sighed heavily. Of course I knew as much – it had been a similar story since I was too young to remember. Long absences interrupted with brief spurts of togetherness. We were never truly a family. Then again, in these war times that was the condition of more and more Andalites.

(What do you think happened with the Hork-Bajir?) I asked, even though we had had this exact conversation dozens if not hundreds of times by now. I didn't want to think about my fathers inevitable departure, not just when he had arrived.

(I don't know.) Foresha said, not indulging in the speculation for once. She seemed to be considering the matter seriously for the first time. (Something was wrong, though. Father barely talked tonight.)

(He never talks.) I protested.

(True. But not like this…he always pays such careful attention, but he was detached somehow.)

I thought back to the night. I had been so involved in impressing my father with my various successes – which were admittedly few and far between and never exceeded high marks in school – that I hadn't paid proper attention to him. In hindsight, however, I had a vague image of his face, pleased to be sharing this moment with his family, yet somehow tense as well. And now that I was thinking about it, mother had been less talkative than usual as well.

(Mother knows.) I said tersely.

(Of course she does.) Faresha sighed with the arrogance only an older sister could possess. (She has been attending all of the trial meetings, hasn't she?)

(True…) I relented, but I stopped suddenly, struck by an idea. Surely mother and father would never directly discuss the trial with us, but now that they both were home, what was to keep them from discussing it together?

(I'll be back.) I said, turning hoof and trotting off in the direction my parents had gone. It wasn't difficult to find them. They always went to the same spot when they wanted to talk alone. It was a place very similar to my own private spot, lined on only one side with trees and near a pleasantly gurgling stream. I was still out of their line of vision when I ducked behind the trees. I moved carefully through the foliage, trying not to make a sound. I didn't have the same liquid grace as my mother, nor the military know-how of my father, but they were too absorbed to notice my approach.

My mother and my father stood facing one another, completely absorbed in the other. For a moment I felt supremely awkward, as if I was intruding on their intimate moment together. But then I saw my father's defiant expression and I knew there was nothing romantic about it.

I couldn't hear their conversation, of course. Even when they thought they were alone, my parents were careful to speak privately. I watched closely for any clue as my fathers expression shifted from defiance to guilt to stubborn aggression. My mothers own face remained smooth, although her eyes were accusing.

(I did what I had to!) My fathers voice suddenly tore through my mind, the emotion of his reaction causing him to lose control for a moment. His main eyes narrowed as he listened to my mothers response.

(You weren't there, Jahar. You cannot begin to comprehend -) He paused, and based on my mothers wild gesticulations and the threatening way she held her tail I knew she had interjected.

(It is war.) Alloran said, his voice trembling with contained rage, (Death is a necessity. If I did not kill them, then they would have all become hosts. Every one of them.)

(So it's true.) My mothers voice permeated my head for the first time. It was filled with such a deep sadness that my own hearts ached, despite my confusion.

(Jahar -)

(No, Alloran.) She turned away, moving lithely from his grasp. (Not now. By tomorrow the Electorate will issue a public statement. What will you do then?)

I inched closer, sensing that I was about to learn something important. My mothers tone had taken on one of disgust. I listened closely to her next words, my mind attuned to every thought she let slip through to the public ear. Her next words took my breath away.

(What will you do, Alloran, when your children discover that their beloved father is the Butcher of the Hork-Bajir?)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

(Look, there she is.)

(Do you think it's really true?)

(I can't believe she's actually showing her face…)  
The next day I walked to school with my head and tail held high, ignoring the stab of humiliation and rage I felt. My classmates didn't bother to hide their comments with private thought-speak. No doubt they were hoping to provoke me into confirming the rumors. No, not even the rumors – the facts. Everyone knew that it was true – no one ever doubted the Electorate's ruling.

The announcement had been worldwide, of course. The entire planet had been waiting anxiously for news on the Hork-Bajir world. The Electorate had released a live holographic report early that morning. I hadn't watched it at first. I didn't need to – I knew what it would say. If I had any doubt, my sisters shocked face when she emerged from the scoop told me well enough.

Eventually, however, my curiosity got the best of me, and I raced into the scoop to watch the announcement. I was alone as I watched, and I was grateful that no one had to endure my pained expression.

(After formal Electorate review, the war for planet RG-021578-4, home of the sentient species known as Hork-Bajir the following results have been documented.) The Andalite who was running the correspondent was not an Electorate member, of course. He was an old Andalite whose fur had mostly tanned. Long ago, when my parents were young, he had been a prominent warrior during the peace times -as odd as that sounds- and in his old age he had become a mediator between the Electorate and the People.

(The Yeerks have seized full control over the planet, destroying most of its ecosystem with a biological weapon known as a quantum virus.) I caught my breath at this. A quantum virus was one of the most deadly biological weapons known. It could be engineered to eradicate any species, and it was brutal and unstoppable.

(War-Prince and Commander Alloran-Semitur-Corass-) I stiffened excitedly at the sound of my fathers name (-made the decision to remove Andalite troops when he thought that the war was lost. He made this decision without Electorate consent and based solely on his own judgment. As a result, the Yeerks were afforded free reign over a still salvageable planet. As a result of his insubordination, War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corass is hereby disgraced.)

The old Andalite warrior continued to prattle on statistics and figures from the war, but I did not hear. All I could think about was that one word, said with such finality. Disgraced. There was nothing worse in the Andalite military hierarchy. Even _aristh's_ were treated with more respect than the disgraced. My father would be lucky to ever see the inside of a ship again.

What was worse was the fact that I knew that wasn't the entire story. Even then, as young as I was and as naïve of the military as I was, I knew that warriors weren't disgraced for poor judgment. They were reprimanded, temporarily relieved from duty, or demoted. But disgraced? No. There was an underlying message in the broadcast. Something else had happened on the Hork-Bajir world. Something that the Electorate did not want the people to know about.

I had always idolized my father. It was an easy thing to do, since he was rarely around. Certainly I realized that he had faults, but I never experienced them. Mother used to tell me stories about when they were young together. She painted a picture of a young, free-spirited Andalite who loved to laugh. I had always given them about as much credence as fairy tales. My father's particular brand of perfection was that of a stone monument. He was often cold and untouchable – but never unkind. He would never knowingly sacrifice an entire species unless there was absolutely no other option.

I felt the first dredges of anger well up inside of me. My father had done the best he could. The Electorate hadn't been there – on a planet far from home, in the middle of a war. How could they say he had made the wrong decision? How could they predict what would have happened had the Andalite force stayed? The Electorate, I realized firmly, was wrong.

I did not voice this opinion, of course. To do so would get me in as much trouble as my father. However, I did seethe silently that entire day, ignoring the jabs of my classmates. Some of the more mature students gave me looks of sympathy. They too knew that there was more to the story than met the eye. I ignored them. I did not want pity, or mockery. I didn't care what my peers thought. I just wanted to fix it. To make the world see that my father was not a cruel man, ill-fitted to be a warrior. That his decisions were made in the best interest of everyone involved. I just wanted to make things right again.

That night there was little conversation. I was certain that mother and father were talking to one another privately, but I didn't try to intervene as I would have a day or two ago. I was lost in my own thoughts. I could go to the Electorate, prove to them that my dad was a good person, and they would admit their error. I would find a way to track down the Yeerks and capture one, only to have him admit in his dying moments that my father was innocent. I shook my head of these fantasies. That's all they were. Fantasy.

(Allora?) I realized that my father had been calling me. I looked up at him guiltily.

(Allora, would you and your sister please come with me?) He asked. We both nodded respectfully and followed him out of the scoop. The night was mild and breezy – a good night for running. I fought the urge to gallop away to my private spot, instead walking slowly behind my father, who kept his stalk eyes trained on Foresha and myself as he moved with the quiet dignity of his rank. There was only the slightest slouch in the way he carried himself to indicate the weight of his disgrace. I knew that it must be taking a much larger internal toll on him.

(Your mother does not think that you should have heard the announcement this morning.) Father said, breaking the silence at last.

(We would have found out at school.) I pointed out.

(Yes, that is what I told her. Jahar…she worries.) There was a trace of a smile in his thoughts, and he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

(Father?) Foresha prodded. My father sighed heavily and turned to face us. Standing there, with the moonlight falling on the contours of his body he seemed almost like one of the mythical gods of ancient Andalite religions. His blue fur gave off a metallic glow, and his gaze was penetrating. I shivered slightly, afraid of my father for the first time in my life. But then he spoke, and the illusion was broken by his soft tone.

(I want you children to know that I did everything I could to save the Hork-Bajir.) He began, (I know that the Electorate thinks I made a bad decision and…well, maybe I did, but regardless that decision did slow down the Yeerks.)

(But I thought -) I began, but my father held up a hand to silence me. Hadn't the Electorate said that my fathers decision had hastened the Yeerk attack, not slowed it?

(Sometimes you need to make difficult decisions in life. Now I hope that you never have to make the sorts of decisions that I have had to make, but I want you to make me a promise.)

(Yes, of course father.) Foresha said quickly, almost as eager for his approval as I was.

(I want you to promise me that you will never enter the military.) Alloran said.

(But females aren't even allowed in the military, father.) I protested. What a silly promise to make!

(Not now, they aren't.) Father agreed, (But in a war, sometimes you must put away your old values and make changes. It will not be long before we need more troops, and when we run out of young capable men, the Electorate will turn to the women.)

That thought chilled me to the bone. I had, of course, had my fantasies about fighting glorious battles against the Yeerks and ending the war once and for all. Every young Andalite did. But I had done it safely within the knowledge that I never would be faced with such a situation. I was female – my place was far from the battlefield. Would all of that change?

(Promise me. On your honor.) My father said, his main eyes felt as if they were boring into my very soul.

(Of course father.) Foresha said quickly.

(Allora?) Father prompted. I thought about my fantasies earlier that day – of killing the Yeerks who had caused my father such a disgrace. Of tearing them from their hosts as they screamed and squirmed, then standing proudly over their decimated bodies. Of being revered by the Electorate as my father was returned to his rightful place in the military hierarchy. _Yeah, and one then wrong decision will turn you into a disgrace yourself. Lose you your honor._

(Yes father.) I said, putting aside my foolish fantasy, (I promise.)**  
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**  
A/N: Just so that everyone knows, yes I am aware that the Andalites are responsible for the quantum virus, not the Yeerks. But do you think the Electorate wants everyone to know that? It's easier to blame the enemy, don't you think?**

Thanks for all the support so far, guys! I appreciate all of the criticism!


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Thanks to my readers and reviewers! Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Four**

Having my father around more often proved to be an interesting experience. Everything about him fascinated me, from the way he ran with his tail held high to the far-off look in his eyes when he was lost in thought, as he so often was these days. Disgrace had not been kind to my father. He continued to do what out of the way, minor job the military sent him. For the most part he had been reduced to an errand runner. He would spend a few days at a time working at one of the nearby space ports, only to return for weeks. He was not asked to return to space.

For awhile I had hoped that the passage of time would ease the pain and ridicule that came with having a disgraced father. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Foresha, who had lost many of her friends, finished her schooling in record time and began to train as a biologist – one of the most isolated professions possible. My once popular sister had not done well with the derision. She became almost as withdrawn as my father himself, and that bothered me. At least father had a reason to brood. Foresha did not. She could easily pick up and move to another area, and no one could connect her with the disgraced War-Prince who had lost an entire race to the Yeerks. Unlike me.

Even complete strangers had a habit of looking at me with pity the moment they heard my name. I hated it passionately. Yes, yes I was the daughter of War-Prince Alloran. Alloran the disgraced. I felt like screaming at their condescending faces, announcing that it didn't matter if my father was a disgrace. That I loved him anyways, and that he was still a great warrior. And if they had a problem with it, they could just go tail to tail with me and we'd see who was sorry. I felt like slashing their heads off and seeing who was to be pitied. But, of course, I didn't.

Mother had always told me that I had inherited father's temper and just enough of her restraint to make it tolerable. I just wished that I had inherited my mother's ability to adapt. She had dealt with the situation remarkably well. For some time there had been obvious tension within our little family. But over time, that tension eased and my parents were my parents again. They were almost happy.

Almost, if it weren't for the way my father stared at the sky longingly each night. Almost, if it weren't for the way he seemed so eager to leave when he was called to the station. As if maybe, maybe they would assign him a task worthwhile. Almost, if it weren't for the look of disappointment he tried to hide each time he returned from the mundane tasks they had set him to. The subversive "almost" overtook our entire lives, and when it lifted it was as if a miracle had occurred.

It was a particularly beautiful afternoon and I was taking my time in returning from school. Father was supposed to be returning from the station today, and as happy as I would be to see him, I was not eager to see the disappointment in his eyes. So I wandered slowly, pausing to take a drink from a nearby stream, greeting my _Garibah_, and generally procrastinating.

When I finally arrived at our scoop the sun was setting and I instantly regretted my hesitance to return. Mother and father were talking privately together in the sunlight, and even though I could not hear their words I could sense the energy surrounding my father. He seemed to snap and crackle with electricity. His tail was held twice as high as usual and he looked, for the first time in years, as if he had a purpose.

(Mother? Father?) I inquired, approaching them. They broke away from their conversation and looked at me.

(Good afternoon, Allora. How was school?) My mother asked, trying to sound casual. But I could hear a strain in her voice. Unlike the excitement radiating from my father, she was worried.

(Fine. We're working on _n-_dimensional geometry.) I said with a small smile. I didn't mention that I was top in the class. I didn't like to brag, and there were more important matters anyhow. (What's going on?)

My parents exchanged a look, and I knew they were deciding whether or not to tell me something. I waited impatiently, twitching my tail as I waited.

(Don't do that, dear.) My mother scolded gently, (It's unbecoming.)

(Sorry.) I grumbled, stilling my tail. As if I cared about how I presented myself. (Will you please tell me what is happening? I have a right to know.)

(Yes, yes. Alright.) Mother said, glancing at her husband. He inclined his stalk eyes in a 'go on' gesture.

(Allora, your father received an assignment from the Electorate. )She said, and I heard the worry more pronounced than before.

(What sort of an assignment?) I asked, looking up at my father. He was practically glowing, his metallic blue fur catching the sun impressively. It was as if he were a different Andalite.

(They are asking me to serve aboard the Dome ship _StarSword_. The ship is assigned to hunt down a Yeerk task force.) Alloran said. He did his best to remain neutral as he delivered the news, but his true feelings were obvious. This was my fathers chance to return to space, to return to the war.

To save his name.

(That's wonderful!) I cried enthusiastically. I was truly happy for my father. I felt a small pang of sadness that my father would be leaving us for much longer than a few days, but I pushed the emotion aside. He would return, as he always had, and when he did everything would be okay again. His disgrace would be revoked and his honor restored. That omnipresent 'almost' would disappear forever.

(When do you leave?) I asked, eager for his restoration to glory to begin.

(Tomorrow morning, before you wake.) Alloran replied, and I could tell that his mind was on a similar path as mine. He didn't want to waste any time. I sighed with something close to relief. Finally, this nightmare was going to end. Father smiled and put one hand on mother's shoulder, wrapping his other arm around my waist, hugging me close in a rare moment of intimacy. We watched the sun as it finally sank below the horizon. I leaned my cheek against my fathers powerful body.

His eyes were on the stars.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Yay! I have officially gotten my first flame! It only took me 8 years of being on this site before I wrote something "bad" enough to receive such an "honor". hehe. Anyhow, here's the next chapter. Thanks to all of my readers and reviewers! Tomorrow's my kids last day of school and Saturday is mine, so I'll get in lots of writing time soon! YAY!**

**-T.**

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**Chapter Five**

It seemed as though my father's absence was more pronounced this time than any other. I had grown accustomed to his presence, something which I had never had the luxury of doing in my younger years. With him gone, and Foresha pursuing her studies, our home scoop felt strangely barren. For the first time it was just myself and mother. Unfortunately, as my mother has often reminded me, I was my father's daughter through and through. As a result, the two of us struggled to relate and fought often. To avoid conflict I spent more time alone than ever.

We did, however, spend a precious few moments together each week when father was permitted time to communicate with us. It was a luxury afforded to War-Princes, even those who had been disgraced. So every week my mother and I would crowd around the holo-projector and eagerly await an update.

(Jahar, Allora, how are you?) He always started the conversations the same way. He wanted to hear about us, our lives, rather than his experiences aboard the Dome Ship. Whenever one of us asked about his mission he would smile and tell us that he was not authorized to release that information. After a few beloved minutes with my father I would be instructed to leave, giving my parents time to talk alone together.

The first few transmissions were lively. I could tell that my father was thrilled simply for the opportunity to be in space once more. That metallic glow that had possessed him on his last night on the Homeworld carried through to his first few weeks aboard the _StarSword_. Of course, all good things must come to an end.

I'm not sure whether it was the tedium of space travel or the treatment he received from warriors who were supposed to be below him, but slowly his holo-messages grew more dreary and withdrawn. His words were the same, but his attention was not there. He was distracted, brooding, more like he had been during his long stay at home after his disgrace. His trip to space was not going as he had hoped. His faded energy reminded me of my own duty to erase the ever-present scar over our family.

His transmissions began to come less frequently. He would skip a week, then two weeks. Sometimes he would send a simple recorded message, sending his love. My father was fading once more.

I put all of my energies into school. I was nearing the end of my studies and would soon choose a specialization. It was a delicate decision. I needed something that would allow me to prove that the name 'Alloran', or in my case, 'Allora', was not shameful. I needed to return honor to my family. I quickly realized that there was only one way to achieve this. I needed to enter the war.

I had promised my father that I would not become a warrior. It was a promise I planned to uphold. Besides that, females were still not allowed in the military, despite my fathers warning. So I had to look to the sciences.

I was not interested in biology or chemistry. Biology would limit me to my own or alien worlds, documenting various fauna. Boring. Chemistry would allow me more freedom of movement, and I could easily find a place amongst a space-faring ship, but I was not very accomplished with mixing various chemicals. The results were often disastrous.

I was rather accomplished at mathematical equations. My analysis of the zero-space continuum had received excellent marks and my understanding of computer components was superb. I found myself naturally gravitating towards exo-datology. Computers were universally required in today's age, and allowed me endless opportunities. If I played my cards right, then I might even be able to secure myself a spot aboard a Dome Ship. I knew mother wouldn't approve, but that didn't matter to me. Somehow, I had to make her understand. This war meant more to me than a simple issue of Andalites vs. Yeerks. It had been my fathers undoing – it would be my opportunity for redemption.

(Mother?) I asked. It was late, and we were both preparing to settle down for the night. I had been twitchy and on edge all day, trying to figure out how to tell my mother my plans. She was very much against the idea of any of her children going into space after what it had done to her husband. It would be difficult to convince her that it was necessary.

(Yes, dear?) Jahar asked, looking up from her computer console. She was composing. My mother creates the background music and choreography for the newest form of entertainment: morph dancing. I suppose morph dancing is beautiful, although I always found it a little disturbing. Foresha had always been fascinated by the process of shifting from one form to the other, but the very thought left my stomach in knots.

(Um…) I pulled my mind from thoughts of _estreens_ and focused on the task at hand. (Well, as you know, I am almost done with my general studies at school. I need to pick a specialty.)

(Yes, of course.) Jahar's full attention was on me now. No doubt she was remembering her joy when Foresha had decided to be a biologist here on the Homeworld. Space had never been on my sisters agenda, and I knew mother hoped it wasn't on mine. (Have you decided on a specialty?)

(Yes.) I said, trying to push my doubts aside. I would have a much better chance at receiving my mothers blessing if I sounded confident. (I think…no, I _know_ I want to go into-) I couldn't help a cringe (-exodatology.)

My mother was very silent for a long while as she allowed that to sink in. Exo-datologists were notorious for spending time aboard spacecraft, although they did have uses here on the homeworld as well, of course.

(Well that's…that's wonderful Allora.) My mother said, a forced look of pleasure on her face, (You'll be working at one of the space stations, I presume?)

(No.) I shook my head. This was the hard part. (No, mother. I want to work aboard one of the ships. A Dome Ship.)

(Allora, you promised your father -)

(I promised him that I would not be a warrior. And I won't.) I insisted, (I'm not entering the military, technically. I'll simply be an analyst. Trust me, mother, you have nothing to worry about.)

(But Allora, the dangers-)

I cut my mother off a second time, (I know what the dangers are. But I have to do this.)

(No, you don't.) Jahar insisted, looking pained.

(Yes, mother, I do. I wish I didn't, but I really do.) I dropped my stalk eyes apologetically and an awkward silence fell over us. I could tell that my mother was fighting an internal struggle between allowing me to make my own choices and keeping me safe.

(Allora.) She said finally, and I could tell from her tone that she was going to give me some sort of ultimatum. She never had a chance to finish her thought, though. There was a loud beep which cut through our conversation. The holo-emitter.

Mother and I exchanged a confused look. We weren't expecting to hear from father for a few more weeks. He had been sent off ship on some transport mission. It couldn't be Foresha, we had just seen her earlier that day. No one else ever contacted us. So who…?

(Open channel.) My mother ordered, turning her attention to the emitter. She kept a wary stalk eye on me, as if she were afraid I would run away and never return. But I was rooted to the ground, just as curious as my overly cautious mother.

(Jahar.) The image that appeared was an older Andalite. A War-Prince who I knew by sight, but not by name. He had often been to our scoop before my fathers disgrace. A friend who was no more. What did he want with us?

(War-Prince Semilan.) My mother said, her voice stiff. Obviously she had not forgotten how he disappeared either. (What can I do for you?)

(Jahar, you need to report to the Electorate Headquarters immediately.) Semilan's voice was urgent, almost panicked. Looking closer I could see that his eyes were slightly bloodshot.

(What's wrong?) Jahar asked, her own voice overcome with nervousness. You didn't just get called to see the Electorate for no reason. The last time they had involved themselves with our family was after the Hork-Bajir incident…what could it be now?

(I can't tell you that, Jahar.) Semilan said, looking sincerely apologetic, (But you need to come immediately.)

(Is it Alloran?) Jahar asked, her skin pale beneath her tanning purple fur, (Is he dead!?) I felt my insides run cold. Dead? Could my father possibly be dead? My hands started to shake. _Please don't be dead,_ I thought. My stomach felt sick at the very thought.

(Just hurry.) Semilan said, his face grim. He holographic eyes refocused behind Jahar. On me. (Is that Allora? My, she's grown….bring her as well. And Foresha. Everyone needs to be here for this.)

(Semilan, please!) My mother pleaded, (Just let me know if he's alive!)

(I can't. I'm sorry Jahar.) Semilan said, and from the look in his eyes I sensed that his apology extended deeper than his inability to relay information. (I am truly sorry.)


	6. Chapter 6

The trip to the space station was agonizingly slow. My mind was racing through the possibilities. Father had been wounded. He had been killed. Had his fighter crashed? Was he lost in space? The possibilities became more and more outlandish as my mind raced around and around.

First we contacted Foresha. She was working near the space center, at some biology laboratory. She seemed surprised that we had called on her in the middle of the afternoon, but when we told her about our own unexpected call she quickly told us she would meet us there.

After that it was a matter of getting to the center as fast as possible. Like most Andalites, we did not have ground transportation. Most Andalites, given the choice, would prefer to run. The only ground vehicles that are typically used are for transport, or for the lame. And, of course, for important officials. During the Hork-Bajir trials an official Electorate transport would come each morning to pick my parents up.

I was beginning to regret our more conventional lifestyle as we ran towards the space station at top speed. Still, the adrenaline and fear of what was to come kept my mother and I moving, ignoring the aches in our leg muscles.

Finally, what seemed like hours later, the spires of the space center could be seen. I had only been there once or twice before, and I had been very young. Back before my father was disgraced my family had made a tradition out of going to the docks to see him off or welcome him home from a long trip. So I vaguely remembered the long, squat platforms which served as shuttle bays. The massively tall spires were reserved for the Dome Ships. Our space station could hold up to four Dome Ships, although there was usually no more than one or two at dock. As we approached the boundry of the station I saw only one. The Dome had been detached and towered above me, a giant upturned bowl containing a slice of our world. Alongside it was the shaft, laid out horizontally. When in space it was vertical, with the Dome resting on top like a _neftlah _tree.

We passed the massive structure and I couldn't help but feel reassured. My father had been assigned to a ship just this massive. What could hurt the pinnacle of Andalite might? Even the Yeerks did not stand a chance. Unless he had been in a battle on his fighter, which was named after my mother, Jahar. Then he could have been shot down with much greater ease.

I pushed away the thought. My father was fine. No need to worry. He was a fierce warrior. Even in his disgrace his discipline had not wavered. He had continued training, continued practicing.

We went to a simple one-story structure and entered. Andalites, being creatures of the outdoors, were never one for architecture and the building was rather plain. Once inside I instantly felt wary. I didn't like having a ceiling overhead. At least there was grass underhoof, though. Springy, well-maintained grass covered the interior.

We were in an atrium of sorts. It was fairly non-descript, although something must have alerted security of our entering because an old Andalite with tanned fur came out of an arched open doorway. Foresha was beside him, looking anxious.

(Mother!) Foresha cried as soon as she saw us, (Mother, what is going on?)

(Are you Jahar, the wife of War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corass the Disgraced?) The older Andalite asked. My mother flinched at the last part of her husbands designation, but nodded.

(Come with me.) He turned on his heels and towards the back of the atrium. Both of his stalk eyes were turned back, trained on us as though he were preparing for us to run. Or maybe he was just curious to see what the family of the infamous Alloran was like.

We followed him back, silent and forlorn. Foresha, as always, had a serene look on her face. I knew that she was just as tormented as I was, but she had always been one for outward appearances. Even if she was worried, she would not let it show. Mother, on the other hand, was wearing her worry in every strand of fur on her body. She was vibrating with fear and worry. I wanted to comfort her, but as I've already mentioned my mother and I aren't very close. So I walked along silently, my own head a muddle of possibilities.

The older Andalite led us through another arched, open doorway and back out into the sunlight. We were in what struck me as an open arena. There were still walls, forming a room roughly in the shape of an oval, but there was no ceiling. Bright light filtered down from the golden sky, warming the grass. On one wall there was a covered area, under which were dozens of computer consoles. Several Andalites occupied these consoles, although all working ceased when we entered.

I recognized the looks the men gave me. It was the same look I had received from my more sympathetic classmates. The ones who didn't spend their days antagonizing me. It was a look of pity.

Oh God.

I felt fear seize my hearts. They skipped a beat, then began up again, their rhythm seemingly off. I felt as if I were in a haze as one of the Andalites peeled away from the group and approached us. _This isn't happening. Father can't be dead_. I thought. I thought I had said it privately, but then Foresha clasped my wrist reassuringly.

(Jahar?) The man asked. He was well-built with a tail that ended in a shockingly large blade. His fur was a light turquoise in color, with only a few tan spots. I recognized him immediately. He was Rendin-Sorir-Horafit. One of the members of the Electorate. I thought that perhaps my hearts may stop beating again.

(Yes.) My mother responded, (Please, sir, tell me what has happened to my husband. Is he dead?)

(Come with me.) Rendin responded, and he led us over to one of the computer consoles, a bit away from the other workers. Not that that helped much. I saw a multitude of stalk eyes trained on us.

(Jahar. I am dreadfully sorry that I am the one to tell you this.) Rendin said, although he didn't seem sad. If anything, he seemed angry. His main eyes were narrowed and his abnormally large tail quivered with rage. What could have made him so angry?

(Sir, please. What happened?) Mother asked again, her voice desperate.

_(Yeerks_.) Rendin spat the word. (Computer, on. Play incoming transaction Feyorn3876.4.)

For a moment nothing happened. I waited, still clutching my sisters hand, prepared for the devastating news. How had it happened? I hoped that it had been quick and painless. I couldn't stand the thought of my father suffering even more.

A hologram snapped on, showing the face of Captain Feyorn – the captain of the Dome Ship my father had been on. His thought-speech voice was grave.

(We have received verified intelligence reports that the _Jahar_, War-Prince Alloran's personal ship has gone missing. Last known course was to the planet known as Earth. Mission involved transport of two aliens. On board was War-Prince Alloran, two _arisths_ and two aliens.)

Feyorn's face and voice faded. I felt my spirits lift. If my father was just missing, then perhaps he was still alive!

(The _StarSword_ ceased sending their regular transmissions shortly after this message was sent.) Rendin said. We received this report from one of our space bases, which suffered from a Yeerk attack. He brought up another hologram. The Andalite who spoke this time was unfamiliar to me.

(Recent records downloaded from a disabled Yeerk Bug Fighter indicate reports of the newest acquisition to the Yeerk regime.) The Andalite said. He must have sent the report right after the battle. His face had a nasty burn on it which looked fresh, and his eyes were frantic. (Reports indicate that the Yeerk known as Esplin 9466, formerly Sub-Visser Seven has recently been promoted to the rank of Visser Thirty-Two. Reason for promotion: the creation of the first ever Andalite-Controller.)

My breath caught. My lungs heaved for air, but I had forgotten how to breathe. _No…._Suddenly I knew what was coming. I _knew_. Father wasn't dead. He was a million times worse than dead. There could be nothing, _nothing_ worse than this. In my mind I screamed for the Andalite to stop talking, for Rendin to turn off the recording. But the official statement had to be made.

(War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corass has been captured. He has become a Controller.)

_No._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

(Allora, you don't have to do this.) My mother pleaded with me for the twentieth time. I looked up at her with all four eyes, hoping that I could, somehow, make her understand. My mother had grown haggard over the past few years since my father had been taken. She had tried to keep a strong appearance, but the ridicule of society had gotten under her fur. Physically she was the same as always, but the glow that had set her apart was gone. Everything about my mother was dull and washed out. It was painful to look at.

(Yes, mother, I do.) I said. (Don't worry about me. Foresha lives just one scoop over if you need anything.)

(Allora.) My mother grabbed my wrist uncharacteristically. I immediately pulled away from her touch. (Allora, please…)

(Mother, what did you think was going to happen?) I cried, suddenly angry. (That I would study and study and then say no when the first opportunity came about? I'm at the top of my class and still no one will give me a job! Not unless it's at dock. No one wants to send _me _into space! And now that I have the opportunity, you want me to stay? Why?)

(Because I need you…) My mother's stalk eyes drooped and I couldn't help but feel disgust. I knew that my mother had been through a lot, having lost her husband in the worst way possible. But Foresha and I had suffered too, and we had persevered. Why couldn't she? I had made it through my final years of school, ignoring the ridicule, ignoring the hatred and the blame from my classmates. I had excelled in my studies of exo-datology, and I hadn't let my 'status' stand in my way.

Not that it made a difference, in the end. When the time came for me to find my place in the 'real world' no Andalite would have me. Especially not anyone remotely related to the military. No, my people had spent far too much time reading reports, watching the Yeerk who controlled my father rise in rank. Watch the Abomination become Visser _Three_.

As soon as the Warriors and War-Princes and Captains saw my name they shared a look. The look. The look that said, _(Oh, this is Alloran's daughter. Well look at what a mess he made of things. No doubt this female will only make things that much worse)._ And then I would be turned away with some feeble excuse of no openings.

I knew in my hearts that if only I could get to space, if only I could have my place in the war against the Yeerks, I could make a difference. Perhaps I could free my father. Or, at the very least, kill him mercifully. It was incredibly frustrating, and I had just about given up hope and taken a nice, safe job on the home world.

Then, miraculously, a real offer came through. The Dome Ship _StarSearcher_ was leaving its dock a month earlier than anticipated, and it only had half of its required technical and scientific crew. They needed Andalites badly, and were taking anyone who was ready to leave immediately. Although I was met with the usual looks of suspicion, I had been given a spot on board. I was to leave that very day, much to my mother's chagrin.

(I'll be fine, mother.) I said, checking to make sure that I had packed my holo-transmitter. (And you will be fine as well. Maybe you should go stay with Foresha for a few days.)

(Just promise me you'll be careful.) Mother said, and I knew that in her mind she was preparing for the fact that I might not be coming home. I pushed that unpleasant thought aside.

(Of course, mother. Always.) I said. I forced a smile, (Goodbye.)

(Goodbye Allora.) My mother said heavily. I turned and galloped away from my home scoop, before she could call me back.

The space station was bustling with activity, preparing for the premature launch of the _StarSearcher_. Warriors and War-Princes bustled around frantically, pushing past me to get to their stations. For a moment panic seized me as I realized I had no idea where to go. Then I saw a sign indicating a check in station. There were several lines, labeled 'Military', 'Biology', and several other occupations, all the way down to 'Exo-datology'. My line was empty. I walked up to the bored looking Andalite who stood waiting.

(Name?) He asked, his fingers hovering over a small computer pad.

(Allora-Forlay-Corass.) I said, trying to quell the unease in my stomach. The Andalites main eyes widened slightly as he did the double-take that I had become accustomed to.

(Allora, the daughter of Alloran?) He asked bluntly.

(Yes.) I responded, putting as much pride into that single word as was possible. I didn't care what he or anyone else thought. My father was a good Andalite. A good Andalite with a very unlucky streak.

(You are assigned to this ship?) The Andalite asked suspiciously. He glanced down at his computer pad, as if searching for a mistake.

(If this is the Dome Ship _StarSearcher_ then yes, I am assigned to this ship.) I said coldly, (Or do you find it hard to believe that the daughter of the Abomination would be allowed to set hoof off of the homeworld?)

(No, of course not.) The Andalite said, covering his tracks quickly. (You're right here. Allora-Forlay-Corass, exo-datology. The ship is very short on exo-datologists. You will be working under Warrior Rendin-Traynar-Forat with two other newcomers. For the time being you may report to your quarters or the Dome until after launch. One of the transport fighters will take you up to the ship.)

(Thank you.) I said stiffly. The _StarSearcher _had already been taken into space, to have the Dome connected, earlier that day. Currently it was docked on the nearest moon to our planet. In order to get there I would have to take one of the transport ships with several dozen other Andalites, most of whom were full warriors. I took my place in line for the transport, feeling distinctly out of place. I immediately received suspicious glances and leers as I realized I was the only female in the vicinity. Determinedly I ignored them, marching onto the transport and refusing to look any of the male warriors in the eye.

(Who are you?) Someone asked, and I jerked in surprise at being addressed directly. I looked to see who had spoken. It was a younger male Andalite, a few years beneath me. An _aristh_, I realized.

(I am Allora.) I said simply, (I was told that _arisths _are to mind their superiors, and not speak unless spoken to.)

(You aren't my superior.) The _aristh _said, (You're a girl. I bet you aren't even trained to fight.)

(Be that as it may I am older than you and, unlike you; I have a real job aboard this vessel.) I retorted, bracing myself against the gentle shudder of the transport as it lifted off, (What is your name, _aristh_?)

(_Aristh _Zendat-Feryllion-Erthil.) The young Andalite said, pulling himself up straighter.

(Well, _aristh _Zendat) I said, (You should be glad you did not go around blabbering away at someone less tolerant than I am.)

(Are you going to get me in trouble?) Zendat laughed a little, a sound which irked me to no end, (Come on, lighten up, we're going to space!)

I scuffed a hoof indignantly, but the younger Andalite had a point. I had little impatience to spare when I was finally, finally leaving my wretched home world behind. I watched through the view screen as the ground fell further and further away, and the curvature of my planet could be made out plainly. I was in space. At long last, I had made it.

I was finally on the pathway to avenging my father.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry about the delay, guys. I've been rather busy. I'm heading on vacation here tomorrow, so my posting may be a bit sporadic, depending on internet connection and whatnot. I'll try to keep posting at least a chapter a week. Thanks again to my readers and reviewers. Enjoy!**

**-T.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

(Excuse me. Excuse me. _Excuse me!_)

I pushed my way through the halls, ignoring the dirty looks I received from the warriors. They were too busy to stop and reprimand me. All of the essential personnel were rushing to prepare the ship for launch. They didn't have the time to deal with one Andalite girl trying to get to the Dome.

If I had been given time to prepare for the launch I would have become more familiar with the Dome Ship. As it was, I hadn't had any time to prepare and had no idea where I was going. Almost everyone had some sort of task to attend to at the moment, but I wasn't assigned to report for duty until after we entered Z-space. This gave me the luxury of watching the launch from the Dome. If I could ever find it.

(Are you lost?) I whipped around to see who had addressed me. It was the _aristh _boy from the transport. What was his name? Zordat? Zender? I couldn't remember.

(No, I am not lost.) I replied indignantly.

(Are you sure?) The _aristh _responded, (You look lost.)

(What did I tell you about treating your superiors with respect?) I asked scathingly. My father would have never stood for such an uppity trainee.

(You're trying to get to the Dome, aren't you?) The _aristh _went on, ignoring me. (Come on, I'll take you there. It isn't hard to find, at times like this.)

(Times like what?) I asked, in spite of myself.

(When all of the important people have stuff to do.) The _aristh _said with a shrug, (You just go the opposite direction of them.)

(Excuse me?) I stopped dead, looking down at the insolent _aristh _with disgust, (I happen to be a very important member of the crew.)

(I am sorry,) The _aristh _said, not looking apologetic at all. (I just figured that since you didn't have a duty to attend to at the _launch _of all things…)

He trailed off, and I didn't respond. Feeling less than pleased with myself I followed the _aristh_ as he wove through the hallway. I noticed that he had been right about one thing: we were headed in the exact opposite direction of everyone else. This thought didn't help my sour mood as we finally reached the division between the ships 'stem' and the Dome.

(Wow.) For a moment I forgot that I was angry as I took in the view from the Dome. The Dome itself was magnificent – a huge slice of home, with the strange backdrop of space. Beyond the dome itself I could see my planet, a huge sphere, simply hanging in the blackness of space. It was overwhelming, seeing something that large just floating there.

(It's beautiful isn't it.) The _aristh_ said, following my gaze.

(No.) I shook my head. (It's not beautiful. It's a cage. And I'm finally free.)

There was a slight shudder beneath my hooves as the main engines kicked in. We were already floating in orbit around the planet, so it didn't take much of a push to break free. For a few moments the planet remained in view, becoming smaller and smaller as we picked up speed. Then it disappeared along with everything else as we jumped to Zero-Space.

(Successful launch from the Andalite system.) An announcement came through the ship, (All personnel report to standard at-space stations. _Arisths _report to the bridge.)

(Well, it looks as if I am important after all, _aristh_.) I said with a smirk.

(It's Zendat.) The _aristh _reminded me. (My name is _aristh _Zendat.)

I was slightly abashed at having an _aristh _correct me. Just who did this young Andalite think he was, anyways? Clearly he had not had any proper instruction yet, or else he wouldn't be so forward. Or maybe that was how the military taught their enlistee's to treat females.

Regardless, I didn't have time to ponder the issue. I was needed in the computer rooms. Without bothering to say goodbye I left Zendat to contend to his training, seeking out my duty station.

It was easier to find my way through the ship, now that the corridors were no longer filled with Andalites rushing to their stations. The Computer Research Lab was located near the bridge, so that if we found anything of use we would be close to the Tactical Officer. Proximity, however, did not lend greatness. The bridge, the heart of the ship, was teeming with the best that Andalite might had to offer. The Computer Lab held the dredges – the leftovers.

This fact was apparent to me the moment I set foot in The Lab. There were three other Andalites in there, having already made it to their stations. The oldest of the three I presumed was my Commander. His fur was almost entirely tanned, and he looked as though he had not left the dimly lit lab for years. The other two younger Andalites, both still older than I was, were a bit livelier. To my delight one was even female.

(Hello.) The Commander said, squinting at me. (Are you Allora?)

(Yes sir.) I said formally. I noticed the other two exo-datologists exchange a look. They recognized me, or at least my name. The Commander either hadn't noticed or chose to ignore it. Maybe it really had been that long since he had left his lab.

(Well, come in, come in. Close the door.) I did so, feeling a wave of claustrophobia as I did so. The Lab was more enclosed than other places on the ship.

(This is Terdrin and the other female is Roshera.) The Commander said by way of introduction, (And I am Commander Eskilan. Your station is just over there, and every morning there will be an updated list of tasks to accomplish. As long as you are here on time every day and accomplish your tasks, then there will be no problems. Understood?)

(Yes sir.) I said, making my way to the station he had designated as mine. I scanned the list, feeling my hearts grow heavy. It was the epitome of tedium – tasks _arisths _could accomplish with no great difficulty. Measuring normal space energy signals, checking atmospheric indicators, analyzing any spatial phenomena the T.O. thought worthy. This was surely not the path to greatness.

(Hi.) The female called Roshera stepped up to her station, which was next to mine.

(Hello.) I said dully, wondering if I would be able to leave early if I finished my work quickly enough.

(Are you…) She hesitated then, as if wondering whether or not she should ask the question I knew was on her mind. (Are you Alloran's daughter?)

(Yes.) I said tersely, a hint of sarcasm edging into my thoughts, (What gave it away?)

(Sorry.) Roshera seemed embarrassed and returned to her work. She was, evidently, not the confrontational type. Neither was the male, Terdrin. He had an incredibly slight build for a male, which was probably why he had opted for computers over combat. He kept shooting me furtive glances with his stalk eyes, and then looking away quickly.

I sighed, turning my attention to the view screen. It was going to be a long trip.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks again to my readers and reviewers. In this chapter Allora has some eye-opening conversations. I promise that the next few chapters will be more action-intensive. As always, thanks for stopping by!  
**

**-T.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

I had never been under the assumption that computer work was a glamorous job. I had just never expected it to be so _boring_. Our first six months in space and I felt as though my main eyes were going blind from staring at the endless energy readings and figures that I had to sort through. Commander Eskilan assured us that our work was for a worthy cause, although he never elaborated on that cause. That was the concern of warriors.

Roshera tried to befriend me at first, but lost interest quickly. No doubt she had wanted to know more about my father, and I wasn't concerned with entertaining those particular notions. I kept to myself and eventually my cohorts took the hint. I was left entirely alone. Or almost entirely.

(How was work today?) _Aristh _Zendat asked, trotting alongside me. In the months since we had entered space he had become like an extra limb, always clinging to me and asking questions. I had no idea why he had chosen me as his compatriot. We were nothing alike. He was a warrior-in-training with no scars in his past. I was a lowly exo-datologist hiding hers.

(Boring.) I said, my muscles straining. Zendat had gotten much faster than me over the past few months, but I tried not to let that show. (As it always is.)

(Ah. Sorry.) He seemed to be waiting for me to ask how his day had gone. He seemed about to burst with excitement and when I ignored him he blurted it out anyways. (We started fighter pilot training today!)

(Oh really?) I asked nonchalantly, trying to sound uninterested. In truth, fighter pilots fascinated me. The dexterity and coordination required to fly in formation and execute some of the more advanced tactics was awe-inspiring. I had only ever seen holo's, but I could imagine what it felt like to have an entire fighter under your control, feeling one with the ship. It had to be an awesome experience.

(How was it?) I asked at last, sensing Zendat's eagerness about to spill over again.

(Wonderful! It was only a simulation, of course. We can't practice on real fighters until we exit Zero Space. It didn't matter, though. War-Prince Turnam said that I am an exceptional pilot.) He seemed to swell to twice his size.

(Well good for you.) I said sincerely, (Did you have any weapons training?) I realized that I had said the wrong thing when Zendat deflated slightly, looking embarrassed.

(Ah, still having problems shooting and pointing, eh?) I said. Zendat was notoriously bad with a Shredder, and it looked as if his deficiency extended to fighters as well. (You didn't kill anyone, right?)

(No.) Zendat said defiantly, (Of course I didn't. It was all simulated, remember? No real weapons.)

(That's probably a good thing.) I commented dryly. Zendat dipped his stalks in a gesture of annoyance, although otherwise he seemed in good humor.

Despite my initial hesitance I found that I was beginning to enjoy Zendat's company. He was incredibly astute for an _aristh_ and he was always asking deep questions. As it was I was surrounded by data-driven intellectuals or warriors who had no room in their brains for knowledge. Zendat was a bit of a breath of fresh air. He was smart, without being confined to the world of numbers and equations.

(Do you think it will be horrible?) Zendat asked, delving into one of those questions, as was habit. He didn't specify _what _might be horrible. All the same, I knew what he was talking about. It had been on his mind often lately.

(Yes.) I said honestly, (It will be worse than you can imagine.)

(I wish that there was some way that we could…make peace. I don't like what our species has been driven to.)

(Peace?) I snorted at the concept. (You would have peace with a bunch of body-thieves? What kind of peace can be made with a parasite? To even speak of it is nearly treason!)

(There could be a way.) Zendat protested.

(There is no way.) I said firmly, (Get that thought out of your head. The Yeerks are evil, vile creatures and they will not hesitate to kill you. Or worse, to make you a home for their own. No. War is the only answer, however unpleasant it might be.)

We had come to a stop near the edge of the Dome, where lush grass met empty white Z-space. Zendat looked at me reproachfully, as though he weren't sure whether or not he should say what he was thinking.

(What?) I asked.

(Did…did your father teach you that?) He asked softly, (That war was the only option?)

I stepped back, feeling as if I had just been slapped. My tail arced threateningly as I glared at my friend. When I spoke it took every effort for me to control my thoughts.

(My father was not a war-monger. He fought because there was no other option. He did not enjoy war!)

(Alright. I'm sorry.) Zendat said. I searched his face suspiciously, but he seemed sincere. Slowly I lowered my tail, looking away from him.

(I am sorry as well.) I said stiffly, (I did not mean to react so…rashly.)

(It's alright.) Zendat said, (I understand. That was out of line. I shouldn't have mentioned your father.)

(I suppose that I should expect as much.) I said with a sigh, (I mean, he wasn't exactly everyone's favorite warrior, even before he was…you know.)

(I'm sure your father did what he believed was right.) Zendat said soothingly.

(I know he did.) I responded, and my thoughts were firm. That I believed, through and through. My father would never intentionally and maliciously harm anyone if they hadn't already threatened him. He was a good Andalite. Zendat seemed to be the first Andalite I had met who was willing to believe that much. I felt a funny shiver run down my back.

(I need to go.) I said abruptly. Suddenly I didn't feel like being around Zendat – or anyone.

(Allora, I said I was sorry.) Zendat sounded upset.

(I know. It's fine. I just need to go. I'll see you later.) Before he could protest again I turned and galloped away, ignoring my screaming leg muscles. Every inch of space I put between myself and Zendat I felt more confused. Zendat was irritating at times, but he was the only person I had met aboard the Dome Ship that had bothered to talk to me without some hidden agenda. He was the only person who cared about _me_, not my father. And that scared me.

I was running so fast that I almost ran down a warrior, who leapt aside lithely. I skidded around the halls and –

WHAM!

For a moment my vision blurred. Whatever I had hit had been extremely solid, like steel. Only warm. As my eyes cleared I realized what – _who ­­_- I had hit and found myself wishing that the warrior hadn't dodged me.

It was the captain.

(C-Captain Chenerif!) I cried, too astounded to be politely silent. His expression was one of complete shock and irritation. My hearts leaped with anxiety as I tried to put myself together.

(Scientist!) He roared. He may not have intended to roar – Captain Chenerif is notorious for sounding as if he is yelling even when he is in a good mood. I have heard warriors joke that he has never successfully spoken privately with another Andalite. Still, whether he was angry or not, he seemed to be roaring.

(Sorry Captain, I'm sorry, I just -)

(Quiet, girl.) His louder thoughts cut mine short and I looked down at the floor with my main eyes, trying to settle my nerves. (You are the exo-datologist, aren't you? Alloran's girl.)

(Yes, sir.) I said.

(Tell me, girl, did your father raise you to cavort down the halls like a youngling?) He asked.

(N-no, sir.) I felt the faintest flicker of irritation. Was the captain using my father against me?

(I should think not. Your father was a stern and rigid man. I imagine that he taught his children well.) Captain Chenerif said. (Don't let it happen again.)

I ducked my stalks in a silent agreement and began to hurry away. I was just about to turn the corner when I stopped and turned. Something was nagging at my mind.

(Captain?)

(Yes?) The Captain paused, regarding me with his stalk eyes.

(Did you know my father?)

There was a long pause and I could tell that the Captain was weighing his answer carefully. Finally he squared his shoulders and turned to face me fully. (Yes, I knew him. I knew him well.)

(Was he…was he a good Andalite?) I felt silly asking the question, but my conversation with Zendat had left me with a need to reaffirm my beliefs. Again, the captain looked at me long and hard before answering.

(Understand this, child. I can only speak of what I saw of your father during war. He may have been a good person at home, when he was with his wife and children. But during a war, like this war we are fighting now? No. During a war, there is no such thing as good or evil. There is only losing and winning. Dying and surviving.)

(So…he didn't do what was good?) I asked, feeling as if my hearts were sinking to my feet.

(He did what he had to do. To survive. That was good enough for him. It is good enough for all of us.)

(But…it _wasn't _good enough.) I protested, (He was disgraced.)

Again, the captain looked as if he weren't quite sure whether he wanted to respond or not. He sat back on his haunches, regarding me as if he weren't sure whether or not I should hear his thoughts.

(Yes.) The Captain agreed. (He was disgraced. What he did was unacceptable, in the eyes of the Electorate.)

(But why?) I found to my utter surprise that I was pleading with the captain, begging for information. It was incredibly out of character for me. But I was desperate to know the truth behind my father's disgrace. (So he left the Hork-Bajir world – there was nothing that he could do to save it!)

(Allora. It is Allora, right?) I nodded and the Captain continued, (If a small child's mother was very ill and there was no hope for survival, but that mother was in incredible pain what would happen?)

(If there was no hope for survival she would be euthanized and the child would enter the care of a relative.) I answered promptly. It was a standard procedure on the home world. There was no need to make the sickly suffer.

(Correct. And if you were the relative who would take the child in, what would you tell him?)

(If it were a young child? I would…) I paused, thinking. I hadn't dealt with many children before, (I would probably tell him that there was nothing we could do and that she had gone peacefully.)

(Would you tell the child that you, as the relative who made the decision, were responsible for its mother's death?)

(No, probably not.) I admitted, (Then the child would resent me, be angry with me. If I were planning on taking care of it, I wouldn't want that.)

(Exactly.) The Captain said, leaning back as if he had made a wonderful point.

(I'm sorry, Captain…I don't think I understand.) I said, utterly confused. What did a sick mother have to do with my father being disgraced?

(Allora. The people are that child. The Electorate must do everything that they can to keep that child from resenting them. Even if it means twisting the truth.)

(I don't….) Suddenly what he was saying hit me, and dread filled my stomach. (Are you saying that they lied about why my father was disgraced?)

(All I am saying is that your father was very good at surviving. And the Electorate is very good at protecting its children.)


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Wow, this chapter ended up substantially longer than I had anticipated. In the light of Ember's review I thought I needed to do a bit of explaining as to why the Captain was so OOC in sharing that information with Allora. Hope this helps. I did have a little trouble making everything flow, so let me know if it sounds too crazy. :) As always, I love the criticism and reviews and I love my readers! Enjoy!**

**-T.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

I didn't speak to the captain again after that night, and I often wondered why he had bothered to pass on such high-profile information. All it had succeeded in was making my head spin with questions. I had never held the Electorate with quite as much reverence as some Andalites, but to flat-out accuse them of _lying_? If the Electorate found out they would have grounds to disgrace the captain himself. The military, it seemed, had its own set of laws, all of which seemed very foreign to me.

Even though I didn't speak to the captain again, I did discuss my encounter with Zendat, who I was growing closer to every day. He was the only _aristh _on board and I had not made a connection with any of the other scientists on board. Our isolation had allowed us to grow closer.

(It doesn't make sense.) Zendat insisted, scuffing a hoof as if to emphasize his point, (The captain of a Dome Ship wouldn't just give you information like that. He must have been lying.)

(Why would he lie about something like that?) I countered.

(If it were the truth, why would he tell _you_?) Zendat asked.

(I don't know.) I admitted. (There has to be a reason, though. He must have known that I wouldn't tell anyone, or he wouldn't have even risked it.)

(You _did _tell someone, though. You told me.)

(Anyone who matters,) I amended, giving Zendat a small smile. It was running joke between the two of us that we were the two least important people on this ship.

(You know, my father never regarded the Electorate very highly.) I commented. (Maybe it's just a common thread in the military.)

(No,) Zendat shook his head, (I've talked to some warriors who treat the Electorate as if they are the ancient gods incarnate.)

I snorted, (That's stupid.)

(Maybe so, but that's how they act. You said that the captain knew your father?)

(He said he did.) I said, (he didn't say how, though.)

(Maybe that's the key, then.) Zendat said, looking a little more enthused. (Maybe they were closer than he let on, and the captain doesn't agree with how the Electorate handled the situation.)

(Maybe.) I allowed, (but that still doesn't explain why he told me that the Electorate was lying without telling me what they were covering up.)

(If he told you what they had covered up that would have been a direct leak of classified information,) Zendat said. I nodded slowly. That was true. Even I couldn't say that the captain had given me classified information, strictly speaking. He had merely said that the Electorate did whatever it could to protect the People.

(He wants me to figure it out on my own!) I said excitedly. My moment of clarity quickly slipped away. (But why me?)

(Maybe it isn't just you. Maybe the captain has dropped hints to a lot of people. You seem a pretty good candidate, though.)

(What do you mean?)

(Oh come on, Allora. After the captain practically tells you that the Electorate is lying? About your father? You can't tell me that he didn't know you would do something with that knowledge.)

(But I haven't done anything with it.) I protested, (Other than tell you.)

(You haven't yet.) Zendat said.

(Well, what do you want me to do? Rummage through the computer files until I find what I'm looking for? If the Electorate lied, then the data is sure to have been corrupted as well.)

(Maybe…) Zendat paused for a moment, staring out the Dome in thought. We were in normal space once again and the stars shone brightly. I found myself lost in thought as well, pondering the meaning behind the captain's words. Surely he wasn't quite so free with his opinion of the Electorate with everyone. Right?

(Do you think he knows that I am going to try and free my father?) I asked. I heard a sharp intake of breathe from Zendat and realized that I had never shared this particular ambition of mine with him.

(Possibly…) Zendat said after a pause. (Although I can't see how he would think you could succeed.)

(Maybe he's desperate.) I suggested.

(Maybe.) Zendat sounded doubtful. (I guess we'll know more once you access his files.)

(Excuse me?) I looked at him in shock. (When we _what_?)

(You said it yourself; the majority of the computer data will be corrupted. But if you can access the captain's personal files, he may have a different version of events logged away.)

(You can_not _be suggesting that I hack into the captain's computer database.)

(Do you have a better idea?) Zendat gave me his smug grin, the one which irritated me so much. And yet…

(No, I don't.) I admitted. (If there's any more information to be found, it will be there.)

(Can you do it?) He asked eagerly, looking excited now that a decision had been made.

(I don't know.) I shrugged. (His files will be heavily protected, but if it's true that he wants me to find out more about this…lie…then perhaps he will make it easier on me.)

(What do we need to do?)

I thought about that for a moment, trying to dismiss the part of my mind that was insisting I was mad. I could get thrown off the ship for this! Sent back to live with my mother on the homeworld, another scar across the face of my family.

(There will be the usual codes and passwords to break. I can take care of that. But…) I hesitated, (There will probably also be a thought-speak recognition sequence. I can figure out the sequence, but my voice doesn't exactly sound like the captains.)

Zendat slumped. (Then there's no way?)

(There's no way that I can pretend to have the captain's voice…) I said slowly, wondering if what I was thinking was even possible.

(But…there's a way I can?) Zendat asked, catching on slowly.

(I'm not military.) I said. (I never had a chance to receive the morphing technology.)

(You want me to _morph _the captain!?) Zendat cried, looking aghast.

(It's the only way.) I said, my hearts quickening as the idea took form, (You morph the captain and we can get past all of the codes. Then we can find out what really happened on the Hork-Bajir world!)

(Allora…I hate to be the rational one here -)

(Then don't.)

(-but why does it matter what happened on the Hork-Bajir world? That's not going to get you any closer to saving your father. Which, by the way, is an incredibly foolish undertaking.)

(You're calling _me _foolish _aristh_?) I shot back.

(I have yet to endanger my life. Or my honor.) Zendat said stiffly.

(Yeah, well. Give it time. You've only been in space for a few short months.) I said sourly. (Besides, who cares if it helps? It can't hurt.)

(Maybe it can…) Zendat said softly.

(How could it possibly hurt?) I cried, (You're just making excuses because you're scared!)

That got him. The simple schoolyard taunt caused Zendat to puff up indignantly, arching his tail. He must have hit a growth spurt since we had entered space. That combined with his training made for quite an impressive Andalite. He wasn't yet a warrior, but he was beginning to look the part.

(I am no coward!) He cried, breaking the illusion. His voice came out whiny and I couldn't help but laugh.

(Help me prove it then.) I said. I could see that I had trapped Zendat. His honor was on the line, he would not be shown up by a scientist. A female scientist, nonetheless.

(How?) Zendat asked at last, sighing with acceptance.

(Find a way to acquire the captain.) I said eagerly. (Meet me by the computer laboratory tonight. You know how to get there, right?)

(Yes.) Zendat said dully. Then he snorted. (Sure. Acquire the captain. No big deal. I'll just walk up and grab his tail blade. I'm sure he won't mind…)

It was late when I made my way to the computer laboratory, but the halls were still brightly lit. Warriors who were maintaining the night shift roamed the halls. There was fewer than during the day, but still a large enough number that I was wary.

I was just beginning to wonder if Zendat had changed his mind, or been unsuccessful, when I heard the door to the lab open. For a moment I stiffened, hoping that it wasn't my commander checking on the computers. Then I saw Zendat's stalk eyes catch in the reflection of the holo-emmiters and relaxed.

(Did you get it?) I asked urgently.

(Yes.) Zendat said. As he neared I saw that his fur was slick with sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

(How?)

(I'd really rather not talk about it.) Zendat said, looking thoroughly unhappy. I decided not to push the point, although it would be an interesting story for later. I approached the computer console and began to work. For a long moment there was silence, until I noticed Zendat standing over my shoulder, watching my movements.

(That's incredibly irritating.) I commented. Trying to block his view – an exceptionally hard feat with an Andalite.

(I like to see what you're doing.) Zendat said, sounding as if he were about to start pouting. I sighed inwardly. It was so strange: sometimes Zendat acted like a complete child, although the age gap between us was really quite insignificant. Then other times the questions he asked and the insight he had made him seem much wiser than his years. Zendat was a very confusing _aristh_ and I was torn between considering him a friend or an unwelcome shadow. Right now he was edging towards shadow.

(Well, I _don't_.) I said pointedly. Zendat sighed and backed away, giving me space to work.

(Alright.) I said after a few minutes of toying with commands. The captain's access portal had been surprisingly simple to access. Either he didn't expect any intruders, or he left it open purposefully. (Go ahead and morph.)

(I already did.) A deep, resonate voice answered. I jumped at the sound of the captain in my head, my hearts leaping to my throat. I spun my stalk eyes to look at him. There stood an exact replica of the captain. He was looking down at his body with interest.

(Don't _do _that – you scared me!) I scolded.

(Well perhaps you should be looking behind you instead of putting all four eyes to the computer work.) Zendat's sarcastic inflection sounded strange on the captain.

(Alright, alright. Hold on.) I said, turning back to the computer. A moment later a computerized thought-speak voice sounded.

(Please enter the correct identification code.)

I told Zendat the code and he repeated it, sounding so much like the captain that my hearts started pounding again. What if we got caught? It would be the end of everything…

(Identification code accepted.) The computer sounded. And then it was there. The captain's files were laid out for me to pick through. I began searching immediately as Zendat demorphed.

(You know, I think I figured out why the Captain may have told you about this.) He said, his voice returning to normal.

(Why?) I asked, distracted as I searched for anything having to do with the Hork-Bajir world.

(I don't think he wanted to _help _you in regards to your father.) Zendat said. I hesitated in my search.

(What do you mean?)

(I think the captain is onto you.)

(What do you mean on to me?) I asked, feeling my temper flare, (There's nothing to be on to!)

(No? You don't think he'd be concerned if you ran off in one of his fighters to try and save your dad?)

(That isn't what I'm trying to do.) I said. (Besides, it isn't as if he went out of his way to talk to me. I ran into him, remember?)

(Yeah, but how do you know he wasn't just waiting for the opportunity to arise?) Zendat asked. I shrugged him off. I didn't want to think about that. Nothing I discovered about my father could hurt worse than what I had already been through.

(Seriously, Allora.) Zendat sounded urgent as I returned my attention to the computer. (I think he's trying to make sure you stay on the ship, doing your work. You were a last minute hire, weren't you? You were only allowed on the ship because there was no one else on such short notice. Surely that has to worry the-)

(Zendat, shut up you foolish _aristh_.) I cut him off icily. I didn't want to think about his accusations. I didn't want to remember the disappointment as I was turned down for job after job because the military feared I would do exactly what I was trying to do – save my father. The captain had seemed like a genuinely nice person, and I didn't want to think that he was simply covering his tail too.

(Just…don't be surprised if you don't like what you find.) Zendat said. I didn't respond, returning to my sifting.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence I found the file I was looking for. (Finally!) I breathed as I opened it. It was a complete tactical log of the Hork-Bajir occupation. The captain had served under my father at the time, as a fighter pilot. I skimmed through a large amount of unnecessary data about fighter formations and planetary statistics, searching for the end. What had happened that caused my father to leave the homeworld?

Then there it was. Written out simply for any decent exo-datologist to stumble across. I read the report twice. Three times. Four. Somehow the words weren't fitting together in my head. It was impossible. A lie. A sick, twisted lie.

(Allora?) Zendat's voice sounded concerned. I realized that I was staring at the screen with all four eyes, my entire body rigid, like a stone. I tried to pull my focus away from the evil, lying screen, but it was impossible.

(_Allora_.) Zendat's voice was more urgent. Slowly, so slowly that it was as if I were moving through a dream, I turned one stalk eye from the computer report, willing myself to focus.

(What is it Zendat? Oh…) I realized that in my concentration I had stopped paying attention to the computer room around me. The lights had switched from their normal buttery color to a vibrant red, the color of blood. For a moment the data report slipped from my mind, a new fear in its wake.

BreeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEET.

The alarm sounded suddenly, piercing into my skull. A moment later a computerized voice sounded over the computer system.

(All crew to battle stations. _Arisths _to the Dome.)

(Battle!) Zendat cried in excitement. He glanced over at me, (Are you going to be okay?)

(What?) I asked. My mind had already slipped back to the screen. Magnets attracted to the most horrific news possible.

(Allora? Allora, what is it?) Zendat asked urgently.

(Nothing…) I said slowly. (No, I'm fine. Go. You need to go. My commander will expect to see me here, but not you. Hurry, before you get in trouble.)

(Are you sure?)

BreeeeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEET.

(Yes, I'm sure. Go!) I cried. Zendat gave me a doubtful look, but he didn't want to be caught in a place he wasn't allowed, especially during an emergency. He turned and trotted out, leaving me alone, for the time being.

The lights continued to pulse red, and the alarm rang in my head, giving everything a surreal feeling, as if I were inside a dream. In a moment my commander and colleagues would arrive, and I would have to appear as if I had simply arrived at my station early. In a moment I would have to erase all proof that I had accessed the most dangerous and devastating news of my life. Maybe of the existence of my species.

BreeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEET.

I scanned the words of the personal log one more time, to make sure that they were really and truly real.

_War-Prince Alloran has decided it is time to leave. There is nothing left for us to do here, the Hork-Bajir are lost. We did everything we could, and now the only thing left is to limit the spreading of the Yeerk disease. Which is why Alloran decided to release a Quantum Virus on the remaining Hork-Bajir problem. Perhaps it will calm the Yeerk storm._

Vaguely, I remembered that my mother had called my father the Butcher of the Hork-Bajir, so many years ago. I had thought then that she was referring to his abandoning the project. Now I knew the truth.

My father was a mass murderer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

The alarm pulsed a steady rhythm that vibrated through my head, dazing me. I felt as though I were moving in slow motion as I eliminated all evidence that would lead to the illicit search of the Captain's personal logs. There was no guilt as I worked, only numbness. A black hole had replaced my innards, sucking away at every emotion that tried to fight its way to the surface. My mind had no room for anything, save the words of that horrendous file.

_There is nothing left for us to do here, the Hork-Bajir are lost. _

Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I realized that I was no longer alone. My commander was there, as were the other exo-datologists. They were shouting all at once, a jumble of thought-speech in my mind. It did not penetrate the fog.

_We did everything we could, and now the only thing left is to limit the spreading of the Yeerk disease._

Commander Eskilan's face filled my vision. He looked frustrated and concerned. I was dimly aware of the fact that he was barking orders, telling me to get to my station. I moved slowly, working on autopilot.

_Which is why Alloran decided to release a Quantum Virus on the remaining Hork-Bajir problem. Perhaps it will calm the Yeerk storm._

_Alloran decided to release a Quantum Virus on the remaining Hork-Bajir…_

_Alloran decided to release a Quantum Virus…_

A sharp pain in the left side of my face threw me out of my stupor. My cheek was stinging fiercely, and when I reached a hand up it came away bloody. For a moment I just blinked at the blue-green goo dumbly, before I registered that I had been hit. I looked around for my assailant.

(Allora, do you care to join us now?) Commander Eskilan was standing in front of me, obviously torn between anger and worry.

(You hit me?) I questioned, noticing a small trail of blood on his tail blade. My blood.

(I didn't mean to cut you, Allora, I am sorry.) He said, (But we are in the middle of an emergency and you were acting like a sleepwalker. Either help us resolve the situation or get out.)

(What…what emergency?) I asked, still trying to regain a sense of reality. It seemed to me as if the alarm had been going off in my head forever, rather than for the last two or three minutes.

(We are being attacked by a small Yeerk task force. They took us by surprise. One Blade Ship, and numerous Bug Fighters.)

(A Blade Ship?) That got my attention. Only Visser's had Blade Ships. (Whose?)

(Visser Thirteen.) The Commander said flatly. I sagged with relief. I wasn't ready to face my father's captor quite yet. Eskilan noticed my reaction and scowled, (Are you staying or going, Allora?)

(I…I think I can -) I stuttered, trying to gather my thoughts.

(Never mind. Get out. I don't have time for this.) Commander Eskilan shoved me aside and took over my console, working both his and mine. I stepped back, feeling a dull wave of shock wash over me. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was actually being kicked out, but when none of the others in the room so much as glanced at me I turned and left the room.

Relieved of my post, I was unsure of what to do. The hallways were a flurry of Andalites running to and fro. Everyone had a place to be except for me. The alarm was still blaring painfully. For a few moments I wandered aimlessly, trying not to think about what I now knew. The black hole was shrinking, and what it left behind was raw and painful.

Zendat. He would distract me. I turned around abruptly, almost colliding with a warrior, and headed for the Dome. He was the only other person on the ship who had nothing to do. Perhaps he could keep the pain from washing over me, pulling me under.

I had never seen the Dome so devoid of Andalite life before. Usually there were at least a dozen Andalites wandering around, feeding or socializing. This was not the case today. For a panicked moment I didn't even see Zendat, and I wondered if he had snuck into battle. But no, there he was, behind a small thicket of trees. He was standing as close to the Dome's edge as possible, staring out at the black space with all four eyes.

I followed his gaze and realized that space was definitely not empty. A Blade Ship was hovering shockingly close. It was big – much bigger than I had expected from the holo's. Surrounding it like a swarm of _trekka's _to its master were the Bug Fighters.

(Its big.) I commented, walking up behind Zendat. I noticed that even my thought-speak sounded dull, flat. As if someone had sucked the energy straight out of me.

Zendat didn't seem to notice my apathy. In fact, he hadn't noticed me at all until I was nearly next to him. He jumped about a foot when I spoke.

(Allora!) He cried excitedly, (What are you doing here!?)

(I guess I'm about as nonessential as personnel comes.) I said, smiling weakly.

(You mean they didn't need you?) Zendat asked, his main eyes wide.

(I wasn't being very useful.) I shrugged, not wanting to delve into it. I had come here to avoid that conversation, not indulge in it. I changed the subject quickly. (So what's been happening?)

(Nothing.) Zendat said, sounding more disappointed than perhaps was necessary, (They haven't shot at us, so we haven't retaliated, and it's the same for them.)

(Huh.) I said, looking out at the enemy ships with mild interest. I noticed that there were a large number of Andalite fighters in the space just beneath the Dome. If I tilted my stalk eyes just the right way I could see them there, lying in wait much as the Bug Fighters were. (An impasse.)

(Annoying is more like it.) Zendat grumbled, (I want to see a space battle!)

(I'm sure that you will have more than your share of space battles in your lifetime.) I commented, smiling lightly. I watched the Blade Ship, memorizing its shape; it's blacker than black color. Somewhere out there a ship just like this one held my father. My father who had -

No. I couldn't think about that. I could not think about it. If I started to dwell I would never stop.

(They're moving!) Zendat pulled me gratefully from my thoughts, and I realized he was right. The Blade Ships engines lit up, and I tensed, preparing to see battle. But the line between Yeerk and Andalite remained clearly visible. In fact, it was growing more distinct.

(It's a retreat!) I said, amazed.

(Come on, get them while they're scared!) Zendat cried at the warriors below, and then groaned in frustration when he saw that they were not moving. (The Yeerks are getting away!)

The Blade Ship was much smaller now, and I saw a brighter light illuminate its black surface. Z-space engines. A moment later the Yeerk ship disappeared.

(No!) Zendat cried, banging the flat of his tail against the Dome in frustration. (Why did they do that? They let them get away!)

I shrugged. (I don't know. Tactics? We didn't want to shoot first.)

(But they got away!) Zendat said again, and I sighed.

(Yes, they got away. They always seem to get away, don't they?) I muttered darkly. Zendat took no notice, going off on a tirade about what should have happened. Meanwhile the alarm finally switched off, leaving a buzzing silence in its place.

(I should go apologize to my commander.) I said, cutting Zendat off after he had bantered on for about ten minutes.

(Oh. Right. Hey – why did he kick you out anyways?) Zendat asked, looking around furtively as if someone might be spying. (He didn't catch you on the captain's logs did he?)

(No, he didn't.) I responded stiffly.

(Well then what -)

(I don't want to talk about it.) I said. (I have to go. Goodbye.)

I turned hoof and trotted away, feeling as though my distraction had not gone very well. This day was rapidly turning into a disaster. I had discovered the worst news of my life, been relieved of duty, and now I was at a loss for how to salvage my mission to save my father.

_Is he even worth saving?_ I quickly shoved the thought from my mind. If I began asking myself that, then my mission was as good as over.

(Allora?) I looked up and saw the other female exo-datologist, Reshora. She was heading the opposite way down the hall, probably back to her quarters.

(Oh, hello.) I said glumly.

(Allora, Commander Eskilan wants to see you immediately.) Reshora said, not looking particularly happy that she had run into me. (He assumed that you would return after the conflict and is waiting for you.)

Something about the tone of her voice made me hesitate before moving on.

(Anything else?) I asked.

(Well…) She paused before continuing, averting her gaze, (He's requested T.O. Reeshar to report as well.)

I felt the bottom of my stomachs drop out. T.O. Reeshar: the Tactical Officer of the ship, and effectively its disciplinarian. There was only one reason that he would be called: Commander Eskilan was going to report me.

I thanked Reshora and continued my way to the computer lab. The black hole had shrunk again, and I wondered vaguely if this was what it felt like to be shot in the gut with a Shredder.

The lab was brightly lit when I arrived – brighter than I had ever seen it. I grimaced when I saw that two Andalites occupied the room. Apparently the T.O. had not had much to attend to in the wake of a stalemate. His main eyes focused on me as I entered the room. They were cold, stern eyes that reminded me of my father's more sour moods. Suddenly I felt very much like a child preparing to be scolded.

(Allora-Forlay-Corass.) The T.O. began. (I understand that were unable to perform your duties today. Is this correct?)

(Yes, sir.) I mumbled, not bothering to explain myself. What I knew no one else could. It was my weight to bear.

(May I ask why?) The T.O. pressed. I continued to avert my gaze.

(I do not know, sir.) I said, wincing. It sounded like the lie it was.

(You do not know why you could not perform? Are you ill?)

(No, sir.)

(Are you unaware of your assignment?)

(No, sir. Our roles have been detailed. My stomachs twisted and turned.)

(Then what is it that happened, Allora?) The T.O.'s patience was waning. I could hear a biting edge to his thoughts that made me watch his tail blade.

(I was…distracted. )I said quickly, wondering how I would be able to talk my way out of this.

(Distracted?) The T.O. asked darkly. Suddenly he snapped an order at the computers, (Security hologram on.)

A hologram appeared in midair between myself and the T.O. It took me a moment to orient myself before I realized that it was an overhead view of the outside corridor. It was empty. I checked the timestamp and froze. _Oh no…_

A moment later a holographic version of myself wandered on camera, looking painstakingly conspicuous. I felt my stomach knot tightly and wondered if my hooves would reject my dinner. The miniature version of me entered the computer lab and all was still again.

(Pause tape.) The T.O. said, (So Allora, would you like to tell us what you found so distracting? Why were you in the computer lab twenty minutes prior to the emergency signal?)

(I was…I…) My thoughts were jumbled, and I couldn't form a coherent response. What could I say? Sorry, I was busy reading the Captain's diary?

(No response?) The T.O. had a new tone to his voice now, one of amusement. Apparently he was enjoying my obvious torment. (Well, I think have an idea of what was so distracting. Computer, fast forward five minutes.)

The image leapt forward, resuming real time on the same hallway five minutes later. As soon as it had resumed I saw a blue figure dash across the screen and duck into the computer lab, moving too quickly to identify. It didn't matter, though. I knew who had been caught on camera.

(Computer, go back ten seconds and freeze.) The T.O. said. The computer complied and a moment later there was Zendat, frozen in mid-gallop on the screen.

(Now. What could you and the _aristh _have been doing that would distract you from your duties?) The T.O. asked, leering. I grimaced. I didn't want to answer. I wouldn't answer. Nothing he said would make me reveal why we had been there.

I was so focused on keeping my thoughts to myself that it took a moment for the T.O.'s next words to register.

(I find it reprehensible that two youngsters such as yourselves should be gallivanting around the ship, performing inappropriate acts in public areas.)

(Wait, what? Performing…what?) My eyes widened as I realized what the T.O. was getting at.

(You think we were…._mating? _No! Absolutely not. No! I would never!) I had to fight the sudden urge to burst out laughing. T.O. Reeshar was famous for his analysis of information and his tactical work, but in this case he was as far from the truth as possible.

(I don't want to hear your denials.) Reeshar said, ice slipping back into his tone. (Just be grateful that we do not have video surveillance in this room, or you may be subject to even more humiliation.)

I wondered how _he _would react if he were able to watch a video of what had actually happened. What would he think of Zendat morphing the Captain? Again, I fought the urge to laugh hysterically.

(Now,) Reeshar continued, oblivious to my struggle, (I do not have room for frivolity aboard this ship. I still have to clear it with the Captain, but we are going to be arriving at a waypoint in three days. There will be a transport ship there.)

(A transport ship?) I asked, confused once more, (I'm sorry, I don't understand. What did a transport ship have to do with me?)

(You and Zendat both will be boarding the transport ship. You will not return.) Reeshar said. All humor slipped from my mind as the gears ground to a halt. I was being kicked off the ship? For an illicit rendezvous that hadn't even actually occurred?

(I…You are relieving me permanently?) I stammered, unable to believe it.

(Yes, Allora. You are obviously not mature enough to handle the duties assigned to you, and neither is _Aristh _Zendat.)

(No, I am! He is!) I cried, feeling panic well up inside of me. I couldn't leave, not now. A transport ship would never get me near my father.

(I am sorry, Allora, but my decision is absolute.) The T.O. said coldly. (You and your little boyfriend are going home.)

(Home?) I asked, all hope draining out of me. (The transport is headed for the Andalite Homeworld?)

(Yes, Allora. Your time in space is at an end.)

* * *

**A/N: Poor Allora, she just can't catch a break, can she? Sorry for the long delay in chapters, guys. I was on vacation and writing took a backseat to relaxation. You'll be seeing more of me in the next month or so, though.**

**Also, as a note, I am probably going to be bumping the rating of this story up. In two or three chapters the story will begin to deal with violence and psychological issues, so consider yourself warned. I'll put another disclaimer before any relevant chapters as well.**

**  
Thanks to my readers and reviewers as always!**

**Happy writing (and reading!),**

**T.**

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

(Zendat, I'm sorry.) I said for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He didn't answer me, the same as the last ninety-nine times. His main eyes were locked on the transparent wall of the quarters, watching the Dome Ship we had come to call home fade away. His stalk eyes were scanning every area of the room but where I stood.

I was furious at being kicked off of the Dome Ship. Livid. Frustrated. Devastated. Humiliated. All of these emotions battled for dominance in my mind. My attempts to save my father had been swept away in a matter of hours and now I was little more than another smear on my family. But this was my burden to bear, it always had been. And now others were suffering because of it.

(Zendat, please talk to me. You know I would never purposefully put you in such a situation. I tried to explain to them that it wasn't like that. That _we _aren't like that.) I pleaded softly. It wasn't like me to beg. In fact, I was fairly sure I had never begged in my life. But Zendat's dismissal was an entire new level of grief for me. He had been my friend, my comrade, my fellow outcast. And his humiliation was so much deeper than mine. There is no greater embarrassment than dismissal from duty. Most Andalites would rather die than have their honor tarnished in such a way. Even my father had maintained his military status, thanks to his rank. But Zendat had no rank, he was of no consequence to the officers.

The three days it took to arrive at the transport had been isolated. Zendat avoided me. I had been relieved of my work station. I had nothing to do but stay in my quarters or the Dome, trying to stay out of the way of others. I was left to wallow.

Adding insult to injury, a public announcement had been made over the thought-speak link, addressing the ship as a whole as to the consequences of promiscuity on board. The T.O. had sounded a bit too smug as he spoke. He of course did not use our names, but everyone knew who he was talking about. It did not take long for news to spread of out dismissal.

My spirits had, if possible, sunk even lower when I saw our transportation home. The ship was a boxy, ugly thing, designed for little more than cargo. The main section had quarters for no more than a dozen Andalites. As if he were in on the cruel joke (though the captain of this ship had not been told the details of our release( Zendat and I had been given quarters together. There were not two open rooms, the officer had explained. We would have to make due together. Upon hearing this Zendat had stalked furiously into the room, significantly larger than those aboard the Dome, and rooted himself at the transparent wall. He hadn't moved since.

(You need to eat sometime.) I pointed out. The floor was grass-covered, of course, but he couldn't stand in one place sucking the nutrients out of the ground where he stood forever. He would have to move sometime. Perhaps then he would acknowledge my presence.

As if to emphasize my point I trotted in a tight circle. The room was really too small to allow for a significant amount of movement. Still, compared with the absurdly small quarters of the Dome Ship, it seemed enormous.

(I'm going to eat everything before you. You can suck out the scraps.) I taunted, hoping to jibe him into a response. Nothing. Not even a twitch of his stiffly held tail. His main eyes were still locked on black space and the speck that might have been our Dome Ship, although it was now no bigger than the surrounding stars so it was hard to be sure.

I slowed my trot, feeling my equilibrium sliding slightly from the tight circles. I wasn't really all that hungry. In fact, I hadn't felt the need to eat much since being dismissed. I hadn't felt the need for much of anything, other than losing myself to bitter thoughts and wasted apologies.

I had thought, shortly after my failed mission with Zendat, that finding out about my fathers crimes may have had the effect the captain had been looking for. I had been utterly repulsed by the idea of my father, _my _father committing such an abhorred act. In the moments following my discovery I had almost believed that he deserved what he had gotten. Surely a lifetime of slavery was an acceptable price to pay for genocide?

But then my fathers face had found its way to the forefront of my mind. Two images, juxtaposed sharply. In one he was happy, his main eyes alight with excitement as he prepared to fight for freedom. The other image was one I had seen much more frequently. Wide, staring eyes, lost to the present time set deep into a pain-drawn face. He may have been a murderer, but he was still a good person. A good Andalite. He was still my father. Still, I was not sure if I had it in me to continue with my plans.

And then all of my hope for saving my father had been ripped out from under me. It was in that moment that I realized I still had planned on saving him, despite his crimes. When all hope of avenging my family had been torn away from my clinging hands I realized just how much I needed it.

See, it wasn't just about my father anymore. It wasn't about what he did or didn't deserve, or how good of a person he was. It was about my mother and sister, being subject to the scrutiny of onlookers who muttered about disgrace and dishonor. It was about the fact that my father's decisions had affected every one of us. And yes, it was about me. I knew it was selfish, but somehow avenging my father had grown from simple retaliation to something more. I was proving myself. Proving that destruction and dishonor was not a hereditary trait. Proving that I, at least, was capable of doing what was right and good.

Or perhaps my delusions of grandeur were even more irrational than Zendats.

Zendat. I sighed, staring at his stiff form. He was still maintaining his supposed ignorance of my existence. He had helped me, supported me, and I had ruined him. I had already been ruined, my reputation scarred before I could understand what it meant. I had been fighting against that my entire life. Now Zendat had his own scars to fight against.

I felt a sudden irrational surge of irritation, overshadowing my remorse for my friend. I had the disgrace of a genocidal Andalite father on my shoulders. And Zendat had what? A mistaken mating episode? Without realizing it I let out a snort of incredulity. As if _that _were the biggest issue here!

(Something funny?) I was surprised to hear Zendat's cool voice in my head. He had spoken to me! One stalk eye was watching me with guarded animosity.

(Yeah.) I said, feeling my irritation building. Now he would talk to me? (You.)

(How exactly am _I _funny?) His anger was building, I could feel the atmosphere in the room shift. It was charged, like the air of the homeworld before an electrical storm.

(I was just thinking,) I spat, as he slowly turned his main eyes to focus on me, (That you're awfully bent out of shape over this. Perhaps it is because there was no truth the accusations?)

(_What_?) Zendat's thought-speech voice was scathing, (You think that I am upset because we didn't _mate_?)

(Possibly.) I said, trying to keep my thoughts calm. I knew, of course, that this was not the case. But the ruse seemed to have worked. At least he was talking to me now, even if he did look as if he were contemplating how to slice my head off most effectively.

(You…I….) Zendat spluttered for a minute, completely at a loss. His tail arched high, and I tensed myself for his strike. I was faster than him, but he had training and I did not. I was about to back out of the room, away from his range, when his tail suddenly dropped, so quickly that I wondered if he had hurt himself. He seemed deflated, the rage sucking out of his body as if someone had opened a vacuum into space. Abruptly, it was my turn to be shocked.

(Yeah.) He said, his eyes rueful, (You may be right.)

For a moment I said nothing, although I registered that all four eyes were staring at him, wide with shock. My skin felt strangely clammy and I felt a strange unsettling flutter in my hearts.

(You want to…) I couldn't finish the statement, my mind had ground to a screeching halt.

(No! Not – it's not like that, Allora.) Zendat said quickly, embarrassment flooding into his features. (It's just that…I do find you an…) He hesitated again and shifted hooves awkwardly. (You're an amazing person Allora.)

(But…) I couldn't wrap my head around his words. What had happened? It felt as if my entire world had been flipped inside out. First my father, then being dismissed, and now this? (Aren't you mad at me?) I asked.

(Yes.) Zendat admitted, (But I'm more angry at the T.O. for jumping to conclusions. Still, I suppose it's better than guessing the truth.) He laughed and the sound made me jump, (Imagine if he knew I had the captains DNA!)

(Zendat…) I began. He waited, but I didn't know what to say.

(I am mad at you,) He said softly, (Because you're right. What you said earlier. We _aren't _like that, and I know that you have no intention of being like that.)

(Zendat, this is…) I trailed off again. Every time I started a thought it slipped away from me like a dream. How could I explain to my _aristh _friend that I knew better than to care for anyone that way? How could I make him see the loss that I saw in my mothers eyes, day after day?

(I know.) He said shortly, (I know. You don't have to give me your excuses. I'm just your friend. I'm younger than you. I'm an _aristh_ – or at least I was. Your mission is more important. I know.)

(I'm sorry.) I said softly. I wasn't sure what else I could give him besides my apologies. Had I been so oblivious that I hadn't noticed his feelings for me until now? Was I that foolish, that out of touch with reality? Or had I just been so focused on my mission that my subconscious mind had brushed it off as irrelevant?

(Yeah, I know.) Zendat said wryly, (You've been apologizing all day.)

(I truly am, though.) I tried to put some emotion into my thoughts, rather than the stunned emptiness I was feeling.

(I know.) Zendats thoughts were quieter now. The anger had faded from his body almost completely. He had grown larger from his training, but at the moment he seemed like a child almost. Rejected, torn. He tried to hide his emotions with a smile but I knew him too well. He was hurt. I had hurt him. Suddenly I had a new mission.

(Zendat, when we get back to the homeworld, I'll make this right somehow.) I promised fervently, (I'll talk to the military, tell them the truth. Somehow I'll make this right.)

(What are you talking about?) Zendat asked, his forehead creased with confusion.

(I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry I can't do anything about….about that,) I said, skirting around the emotions, (but I'll get you back into the military. I'll make up for as much of this as I can. As soon as we get home -)

(Who's going home, Allora?) Zendat asked, the smallest hint of his old energy returning.

(What do you mean, who's going home?) I asked, wondering if he was in denial.

(You mean you're giving up?) He was grinning openly now, somehow entertained by the idea.

(I don't have much of a choice, Zendat.) I said, scowling. Did he have to make it sound so…personal? It wasn't as if I had _chosen _to give up my mission.

(Of course you do.) Zendat scoffed, speaking to me as if I were the child, (Do you think a transport ship can hold us?)

(Excuse me?) I wasn't sure I had heard him right.

(A dozen Andalites, none of which have been formally trained? A massive cargo ship filled with supplies and slower than a Gedd? Come on, Allora, even you should be able to see the possibilities.) True excitement leaked into Zendat's voice now. It was as if I had my old friend back.

(Are you saying I should…run away?) I asked slowly, the concept sending a thrill of fear through me. On the Dome Ship I had planned on eventually running, setting out on my own. But it had always been a distant thought, and I had avoided bringing it to the forefront of my mind.

(No.) Zendat said, making a face, (I'm saying _we _should run away. There are a few old-class fighters on this ship. Three, if I remember correctly. I've done well in all of my training simulations. It'll be a breeze.)

(A breeze. Right.) I said sarcastically, (We'll just stroll to the docking bay, ask to hijack a fighter and zip on into space. What exactly will we do then? I doubt the Dome Ship will take us back.)

(No, of course they won't.) Zendat agreed. (But it _will _be easy to take a fighter and some fuel cells. Have you looked at the Andalites aboard this ship? They aren't exactly war-princes. It'll be simple. And then, once we're free, we can find your father.)

I stared at him in disbelief for a full minute before I regained my composure.

(You…you want to just steal a fighter and go gallivanting around space looking for my father?) I asked, aware of the fact that my thoughts were shaky, (In case you haven't noticed, Zendat, space is a big place. I don't think the fighters are equipped with military-level navigational systems.)

(True…) Zendat seemed to ponder this for a moment while I tried to get my head on straight. What had happened to my eager _aristh_? He had been all for the glory and adventure of war, but cautious about anything involving my father. He had been excited about the prospect of fighting, but practical about the dangers of Visser Three. Had he only been cautious for my benefit? Was he protecting me? Could he really have those sorts of feelings for me?

(I have an idea.) Zendat said, pulling me from my confused thoughts. I glanced at his face and was scared by what I saw. There was a fierce light shining in his eyes, which I recognized in my own desire to prove myself.

(Zendat, you don't-)

(Be quiet, Allora. I do. I do have to. I don't have anything left. My hopes for the military are gone, unless I somehow show them that I am honorable. If we succeed, it will be a victory for both of us. For all _three _of us.) He amended, including my father in his thoughts. Then his voice softened. (Besides, it is what you want.)

(What's the plan?) I asked softly. I was suddenly afraid. I was afraid of the prospect of seeing my father – or rather of seeing a filthy parasite using him for his body. I was afraid of the possibility of failing. I was afraid of the slim possibility of succeeding. I was afraid of the way Zendat looked at me.

And I was afraid because I knew, I _knew _beyond a doubt that it didn't matter how Zendat felt about me. And it didn't matter if I was afraid of failure, or of seeing my father. Somehow the world, which had flipped and twisted inside of itself, had turned right again. My mission was unchanged, my goal was clear once more. I waited expectantly for Zendat's plan, knowing that it didn't matter what danger was involved.

(We bring them to us.) Zendat said smugly.

(Of course.) I whispered. The transport ship itself would be capable of locating the Blade Ship that housed the evil creature in control of my father. If we could lure the Yeerks here then perhaps I could find a way…somehow.

For a fraction of a second I thought about the eleven untrained Andalites on board the ship. For a fraction of a second I felt guilt at what I was going to impose upon them. But I knew that it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except the fact that my mission wasn't as lost as I had feared.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so honestly this chapter ended up _completely _different from how I had anticipated. Somehow it took on a life of its own! Let me know if anything seems OOC here, because even hinting at romance is completely out of my comfort zone. As in this is the first time I've attempted it _ever_. I hope you enjoyed it, and for those of you holding your breath for action, you won't be disappointed! I guarantee that the next two chapters will deliver!  
**

**Happy reading,**

**T.**

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

(Are you sure you're ready?) I asked Zendat, as I nervously reviewed my handheld holographic pad. Projected above the pad were dozens of figures, detailing as much information I had been able to collect about our cargo ship.

(Of course I'm ready.) Zendat said, making a face, (You worry too much.)

(Taking control of the bridge of an Andalite ship is no small task.) I reminded him, but he only laughed in response.

(Allora, it's a _cargo_ ship. There are eleven Andalites on board and only the captain has an iota of military experience. The captain who is currently asleep in his quarters. There's what, two Andalites on the bridge? I think I can handle it.)

(You're just a child…) I said, hesitating. The past few weeks had been spent gathering information, memorizing schedules, and analyzing data. I knew the cargo ship inside and out, I knew where every Andalite on board was likely to be at any given time, and, most importantly, I knew how to access the navigational controls.

(You really need to let up on the whole 'just a child' thing, Allora.) Zendat said. He was already beginning to morph, his thought-speak voice taking on a new tenor.

(Sorry.) I said automatically, waiting patiently for him to finish morphing the captain of our old Dome Ship. Our plan was incredibly simple. We would go to the bridge, telling anyone who questioned us on our way that Zendat had boarded at our last cargo stop, earlier that day. Unless we were confronted by the Captain of _this _ship we didn't run a huge risk of being detected. That would, at least, get us to the bridge safely.

(Ready?) I asked again, feeling slightly awkward. Even though Zendat had been practicing his captain morph over the past few weeks, getting the feel for the larger tail blade and muscles, I still felt odd whenever he was in the older form. I felt as though I should be on my best behavior, as if he were the real captain.

(Ready.) Zendat responded, flicking his tail experimentally. I left our quarters first, making sure that the hall was empty before allowing Zendat to follow. Silently we walked down the hallway together. I positioned myself slightly behind Zendat, allowing it to look as if he were directing me. Zendat was obviously my superior, simply by the attribute of being an adult male, and it may have aroused suspicion if I led.

We were lucky in our short walk to the bridge. We saw no other Andalites. Presumably they were all either sleeping or finishing up an inventory check in the cargo hold. My hearts beat nervously as we reached the door to the bridge. Two Andalite's would be inside, taking over the post of the Captain while he slept. We would have to outsmart them and hope that it would not come to a fight. At least not yet.

I commanded the doors to open and they slid back effortlessly.

The bridge of the cargo ship was like a miniature version of the Dome Ship bridge. It had half as many control stations, only one weapon station which serviced low-level shredders, and a holographic navigational and communications display. The two Andalite workers who I had expected were both at a control station, although they did not seem to be working at present. Both stiffened and turned when the door opened.

(Who are you?) The nearest Andalite asked, directing his question to Zendat.

(My name is Warrior Zofar-Careyon-Iritial) Zendat said, reciting our rehearsed speech, (I boarded at your last docking station this morning. I need to send through a communication to the dock with my nightly report. I was given clearance from the captain to use the bridge's port so that my calls can be reviewed.)

It was a good alibi. All military personnel were required to send a nightly report. If they believed that Zendat was military - and who couldn't, given the size and strength of his morph? – then it made sense that he would be directed to use the bridge for communications. I waited, hoping that our assumptions were correct, as the two Andalites shared a look. I knew that they were speaking privately amongst themselves, probably wondering whether this was business worth waking their captain about.

(Very well.) One of them said at last. His stalk eyes focused on me, (What is her purpose here?)

(Unfortunately I am not at the liberty to disclose that information.) Zendat said. I couldn't help but feel a slight awe at his ability to sound so formal and commanding. (I also require privacy for this communication, as it is of a classified nature.)

(We are under orders to remain on the bridge.) The first Andalite said, looking uneasy at Zendat's order.

(My orders override yours.) Zendat said, (We will only be a few minutes. I simply need to conduct and send a data upload. I will alert you the moment I finish.)

There was another long pause before the two Andalites dipped their tails in confused assent and slowly left the bridge. As soon as they were gone Zendat closed the door and ordered it not to reopen until his command.

(That was amazing!) I exclaimed sincerely.

(Nah, they are just incredibly dense.) Zendat said modestly, (There is no way that would have worked on a military craft.)

(Still, I couldn't believe how natural you sounded!) I insisted, (You _sound _like a great warrior.)

Zendat dropped his stalks in embarrassment and I quickly busied myself with the navigational console. First I bypassed the regulations that limited communications to Andalite vessels. That part was fairly simple. The complicated part was in detecting the right ship once I had access to all of the data. There were thousands of large vessels in this arm of the galaxy which put out navigational pulses. Even after I narrowed it down to Yeerk vessels it was a huge number. After a few more calculations I was able to limit it to Yeerk Blade Ships. Twenty vessels. A much more manageable number.

Each Blade Ship had its own unique signature, but I had no idea what those signatures meant. For a few moments I stared at the display, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn't want to send _twenty _Blade Ships after us. One was already ten times what this cargo ship could handle. I needed to find the right ship.

(How do I find out which is the right ship?) I asked out loud. The Blade Ships all had identical stats listed. Zendat came over to stand behind me, looking at what to him were probably lines of meaningless data.

(Life forms.) Zendat said after a long pause.

(What?)

(Search life forms. Only one ship will have an Andalite on board.)

(Of course!) I cried, amazed at how glaringly simple it was. I quickly entered in the command. The correct ship was immediately highlighted and its specs pulled up. I glanced at Zendat nervously. This next task was up to him.

(Alright, Zendat. I'm opening up a channel. As soon as that red light goes on you can start talking. I've encoded the signal to look like it is one Andalite ship trying to contact another. The Yeerks will think they have intercepted an important transmission.)

Zendat nodded, and I noticed that his hands were clenched at his side. I took a deep breath and entered in the command. The light turned red.

(This is a Priority One message to all Andalite vessels,) Zendat began, his voice shaking. He paused and collected himself before continuing, (Our cargo ship has been disabled. We are located five thousand light years beyond sector RG-201 and there are no Andalite response vessels nearby. Life support is failing. We need immediate assistance. Repeat, Priority One to all Andalite vessels.)

I cut the communication and the light turned off. Zendat looked terrified as I began eliminating all traces that we had made any contacts. He was shaking. I felt a sudden desire to reach out and comfort him, despite his huge, dominating morph, but I brushed aside the silly instinct. There was no time for that now. The Andalites who were supposed to be on the bridge were no doubt getting nervous: we had been occupying the bridge for longer than anticipated.

(Come on, let's go.) I said as soon as I finished. Before Zendat had a chance to say the command the doors to the bridge shot open.

(What is the meaning of this!?)

The Captain of the cargo ship was nowhere near as impressive or terrifying as the captain Zendat was currently morphed. Or even as the T.O. had been on our previous home. But his tone made my hearts jump with a thrill of terror nevertheless. I turned on the spot, my tail arching in an instinctual reaction. Zendat reacted similarly, his large form towering over the Captain.

(I asked a question.) The Captain hissed. He was definitely ex-military. (I demand an answer. Who are you? What are you doing on my bridge? Why did you lie to my officers?)

He directed these questions at Zendat, scarcely giving me a second glance. I couldn't help but feel a little irritated, despite the fact that half of the point of Zendat's morph was to make me less noticeable. Still, I knew that I could come up with responses that were at least slightly more coherent than Zendat's unrehearsed lies.

(I…uh…I was required to send out a daily report, sir.) Zendat floundered, proving my fears correct.

(Report?) The Captain's main eyes narrowed dangerously, (Who are you to barge onto my ship?)

It was lucky that the Captain had not recognized Zendat's morph. In all likelihood he had dealt with the T.O. in our transfer. Regardless, it would not take a quantum physicist to figure out that Zendat was not who he seemed.

(Sir, I'm sorry, it is my fault.) I jumped in, before Zendat could pull himself together.

(_Your _fault?) The Captain asked, looking at me thoroughly for the first time. As soon as he recognized me his eyes clouded with distaste. (Explain.)

(Well, you see…) I hesitated, wondering how much truth I would need to reveal to make the lie believable. (I was homesick. I asked Zendat here to help me take over the communications array. I wanted to contact my…mother…and let her know that I was returning.)

(Zendat, you say?) The Captain looked, if anything, even more furious as he sized up the large Andalite next to me. It took a few moments for the information to click in his head. When it did he seemed aghast. (You…you acquired and morphed another Andalite?)

(He had permission, sir.) I jumped in quickly. (It was for a training session aboard the Dome Ship. Although the use was unauthorized now, it was an authorized acquisition of DNA.) Privately I hissed, (Zendat, demorph before he decides to throw us out an airlock!)

It looked as if the Captain were considering just that. He looked from me to the shrinking Zendat a mix of fury and confusion on his face. Then, abruptly, his features softened.

(You were homesick.) He said. I nodded mutely, afraid to give anything away.

(I remember when I went into space for the first time, as an _aristh_.) The Captain said fondly, (It was terrifying, and lonely. Of course, we weren't allowed to be homesick. Such a thing is undesirable of a warrior. But you are a female, and a scientist at that. It's no wonder you miss your home.)

I stood perfectly still, torn between relief and shock. I could hardly believe that this Andalite was buying my lies. Was he so far beyond his military years that he had forgotten what happened to those who broke the rules, regardless of the reason?

(You know, I have a daughter myself.) The Captain went on, and I winced. (I wouldn't dream of allowing her to go into space, of course. I like to know where my children are, so that I know they are safe. I can imagine this must be just as hard on your mother as it is you.)

(So not fair.) Zendat whispered to me privately. (You're getting out of this because you're a girl.)

(Shh.) I hissed back, (You're getting out of it too, so be quiet.) In all honesty I was feeling pretty humiliated. I hated preferential treatment based on my gender. I hated the way the Captain was looking at me, probably trying to see his daughter in my position. I forced back a shudder. My father would never have been so soft.

Still, it looked as if we were going to succeed in getting out of trouble in one piece.

_Breet._ A single beep interrupted the Captain from whatever he had been about to say. Through one stalk eye I saw the red light on the communications display light up. Instantly the Captain and his officers had something new to pay attention.

(Incoming transmission.) One of the officers said, going to the display. I shot Zendat a look, feeling my stomach clench. There was no way the Yeerks had responded so quickly. Was there?

(Location?) The Captain asked.

(It is encrypted. Should I call our exo-datologist to the bridge?)

(No, no time. I'm sure it is just a trader ship wanting to know if we are benign.)

I was frozen where I stood. There was no way the Captain was so out of touch as to just open an encrypted communication without researching it, was there? In all honesty, I could have found out who sent the message in minutes, but I did not voice that particular fact. If it was the Yeerks…I had to let them come.

(Should I open a transmission?) The other officer asked.

(Yes, yes, go ahead. Open a one-way communication link. Accept their feed, but do not send one in response just yet. I want to get a look at whoever it is before they see us.)

(Yes Captain.) The officer entered a few commands into the computer. I felt a sudden pressure on my hand and realized that Zendat had placed his hand in mine. Such contact between myself and a male typically would have made me incredibly uncomfortable, but at the moment my mind was frozen with anxiety.

(Transmission on.)

A holographic image molded itself into being on screen. Suddenly Zendat's hand gripped me tighter, and I was glad. If not for his hold I may have taken off running.

(Well, well, what have we here?) The cold, familiar voice doused my body in cold fear. The face I knew so well, had seen in my dreams every single night, leered down at me. The voice I had come to love and respect was thick with an unfamiliar evil.

Alloran. My father.

Visser Three.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The ending was fun to write. Look forward to a lot of action coming up and probably a few events you won't be too happy with me over. :P Don't ask me what, you have to read it to find out! Don't forget to review!  
**

**-T.**


	14. Chapter 14

**AN: Sorry about the lack of updates. A combination of starting school and running away from Hurricane Ike left me busy, overburdened, and for a short time powerless. I'll try to be better, I promise. :)**

**-T.**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

My hearts fluttered and skipped a beat. Time and space seemed to freeze, constricting upon that single moment I had waited so long for. He was right there, right _there_. That was my father's face projected there!

(Father!) I cried, feeling a wave of relief, joy, and fear. Odd. Why would I feel fear towards my father?

(Shut up, you fool.) The Captain snapped at me, all pleasantness gone. His words triggered reality and time started up again. The bridge came back into focus and I realized my error. The Captain and his entourage were standing stiffly, looking shocked at the Andalite on screen. The tension in the air was thick enough to see. _Of course_, I realized. The image before us may have looked like my father, but it was not him. Not anymore.

(Did he hear me?) I asked, suddenly afraid. The way my father…no, the way _Visser Three's_ eyes glinted with malice sent a whole new thrill of fear through me.

(No.) Zendat answered me softly, (They haven't set the computer to send transmissions yet, remember?)

(Oh…right. Of course.) I said, trying to shake the unexpected fog from my mind. I realized that I was still gripping Zendat's hand tightly as I watched my father's face, contorted with a mask of evil.

(Tell me again, Allora.) The Captain said, his voice snapping and crackling with fury, (Who _exactly _were you trying to contact?)

(Captain,) One of the other Andalites said, (We have to open a response channel.)

(We do not.) The Captain responded. (Perhaps if we do not respond the vile creature will lose interest and leave.)

(Are you serious?) Zendat asked. To my horror he actually laughed. Laughed! At the Captain!

(Excuse me?) The Captain looked at Zendat as if he were a piece of dung, (Do you have something to say, boy?)

(Yes, I do.) Zendat said, his confidence surprising me. (If you honestly think that a Yeerk – a Yeerk _Visser _– is going to simply turn away from such an easy target as a cargo ship, well then you are mad.)

(Are you questioning my sanity?) The Captain's thoughts were dangerous, and I was about to tell Zendat to shut up, but my thoughts were interrupted by the transmission.

(So, you don't want to come out and play, do you?) My fathers voice asked, (Well, then. I suppose we will just have to be a bit more….persuasive.) The holographic image of my father cut off, leaving a strange emptiness in my stomach.

(Captain, the ship is reading Visser Three's Blade Ship less than a light year from here. He's coming up fast, direct course.) One of the crew members had taken up the navigational systems. (What should we do? Their weapons are powered.)

(Retreat.) The Captain said briskly. (Get us to Zero-Space as quickly as we can.)

(What!?) Zendat and I cried at the same time.

(You are an Andalite!) Zendat cried, (Andalites do not retreat!)

(Be quiet.) The Captain scowled, (and get off of my bridge. I will not have my crew subject to a suicide mission. We are not military, we do not attack and we only defend when absolutely necessary. This is not a battle we will come close to winning. Now go.)

(No.) I said, emboldened by Zendat's outburst. My father was so close – less than a light year away! If only I could find a way to get to him, surely I could save him. I had to force this ship into battle. Somehow.

(No?) The Captain asked, (Treeyar, please remove these _children _from my sight.)

The Andalite who had been drifting towards weapons turned to face us. He was full-grown, although still young. Built small and lean, he was not particularly impressive after months on a Dome Ship. My stalk eyes locked with Zendat's.

(We need to force a confrontation.) I told Zendat privately.

(I know.) He responded, giving my hand a squeeze. Were we still holding hands? I had forgotten. The warmth and pressure just felt so natural. Feeling a small pang of resentment I pulled my hand free.

(We need to keep them distracted.) I said again, sizing up the adult Andalite. He looked fast, but not particularly strong. Together, we could take him.

(You realize that you are proposing an attack on your own people.) Zendat said calmly.

(Yes.)

(Alright.) Zendat sounded satisfied, (Let's do it then.)

Faster than my mind could register it Zendat leapt forward, tail arched. He swung lithely at the Andalite known as Treeyar, who fell back in shock. For a moment I watched in awe as Zendat struck again and again, his tail like liquid lightning. I had never known he was so fast!

(Traitors!) A low growl came from behind me. The Captain. He aimed a blow at me and I backed away quickly, skittish. The Captain was the only person on board other than Zendat with military training. I did not want a fight with him.

(Zendat!) I cried as the Captain forced me back. I chanced a swing at him with my blade, but he knocked it aside easily. He raised his tail for another blow. I winced, closing my main eyes, as his tail swung downward, too fast for me to block.

FWAAAP!

Suddenly an enraged cry filled my brain. I chanced a look and saw Zendat's tail blade, pushing back against the Captain's inches above my head. Wide eyed I skirted back, leaving the two to have at it.

(What do you think you're doing, child?) The one called Treeyar asked. The third remaining Andalite was still at the navigational array, reading off statistics that bounced around my mind like white noise.

(The Blade Ship is within a hundred million miles. He is fast approaching. They're trying to send another communication through. I'm going to go ahead and route us to Zero-Space.)

(I'm trying to do what is right.) I said to Treeyar. I slashed my tail at him. He blocked, but the movement had him off-balance. Using the opportunity I swung around to the navigational station and swung again. The Andalite guarding the station raised his blade to protect himself, but my tail swung harmlessly past him. Instead I felt a sudden wave of electricity jerk through my body as it made contact with the navigational systems. My blade cut through the console, and for a moment everything around me turned white.

I felt my body trembling with shock as I tried to loosen my tail. The blade was stuck within the wires. I could not get free! I could feel my fur standing on end as I lost my balance. Where were the others? What was going on? My head was a jumble of open thought-speak and I could not make sense of it.

Suddenly, pressure. I felt something or someone push hard against me. My tail blade slid free and the pain stopped as abruptly as it had started. For a moment I lay on the grassy floor, catching my breath. The yells and sounds of battle continued on as I regained my senses.

(Allora!) Zendat's voice cut through my confused thoughts, (Allora, the communications!)

(What?) I asked, dazed. Slowly I rolled, pulling myself up to my feet. I blinked, clearing my vision. Zendat was cornered. The Captain and Treeyar were both standing over him, tails raised. The third Andalite, the one who had been near the navigational display, lay unceremoniously on the ground. His fur was sticking up oddly and there were burn marks on his hands that matched those on my tail.

(You need to open communications!) Zendat cried, (Otherwise they'll just shoot us down!)

Zendat aimed another swing at the Captain and he bellowed with rage as a gash appeared across his chest. If I had had the time to think I would have been impressed and awed by Zendat's performance. He was holding off two full-grown Andalites, one of whom had military training. He wasn't winning, but he wasn't losing either.

I tore my attention from Zendat. He may not have been losing yet, but the odds were still against him. I hurried to the communications display and entered in the activation command. The computer asked for a thought-speak prompt.

(Audio connection, request two way communication to vessel - ) I checked the designation, (- BS021. Begin transmission.)

A red light began to blink, indicating that my transmission was processing. A moment later the light stopped blinking. The communication link was open.

(Are you ready to beg for mercy, Andalite scum?) My father's voice cut into my brain like a knife. (We are going to fire with Dracon Beams on full. Do you know what that will do to your precious little cargo ship?)

(I…I don't…) I paused, willing myself not to fall apart. Behind me Zendat cried out in pain. _Focus, Allora_. (I don't think that is a good idea, Visser.)

(Oh no?) The Visser responded, his voice thick with contempt, (and why is that?)

(Because.) I said, taking a deep breath. This was it. The only glimmer of survival was in revealing myself. (Visual on.)

I knew the moment that Visser Three could see my face. I heard a sharp intake of breath followed by a long, foreboding silence.

(Allora.) I jerked in surprise, hearing my name. The Visser did not sound shocked, but rather amused by the development. I felt a twist of dread in my stomach as the Visser continued on, (Well, this is a turn of events. I suppose I won't be able to shoot down the cargo ship after all.)

I heaved a sigh of relief. Maybe I could still get Zendat and the rest of the crew out of this alive. I didn't care so much about the crew, but Zendat…I would do anything in my power to keep him alive and free.

(Power down Dracon Cannons). The Visser said, and his own visual transmission appeared. The image of my father, smirking in triumph chilled me to the bones. The look he gave me was one of complete and total confidence; a predator preparing to set the killing blow upon its prey. (Deploy Bug Fighters.)

Visser Three smiled at me. I was shaking with fear. I knew I was shaking, but I didn't care. Desperately I tried to find some hint of my father in those evil, amused eyes, but there was nothing. Nothing.

(Capture the girl. Destroy everyone else. I think it's time for a family reunion.)


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

I was amazed enough that my simplistic ploy had worked. The foul Yeerk living in my father's head must have been either bored or truly confident of victory if he was buying my simple bait. To Visser Three I was just another filthy Andalite. But to my father…

I cringed to think of what my father was enduring. The crushing vice of the Yeerk's control had not really registered in my mind until I saw my father's familiar face, alight with evil. Had I just made my father's pain worse by revealing myself?

(Allora!) Zendat's voice struck through my consciousness. The room around me came back into focus. The communication was over, shut down. The display was now showing the looming, black on black evil that was the Blade Ship.

(Allora, we need to go.) Zendat said urgently. Go? Go where? I was still fighting the shock of seeing my father.

(Allora!) A warm hand closed around my wrist, tugging me urgently. I looked into Zendat's main eyes, shocked to see the terror that was emanating from my warrior-cadet friend. (Allora, we need to get to the fighters.)

(The fighters…) I trailed. Of course. The fighters. I needed to get off of the ship and away from the line of fire. Maybe, through some miracle, I could save the doomed civilian Andalites around me.

Without really realizing that I was moving, I followed Zendat from the bridged. The stunned captain and his attendants made no move to stop us. They were fighting desperately to find a way to Zero-space, despite the fact that it was far too late for that.

(Zendat.) I said, as we entered the abandoned docking bay. The rest of the ship had been silent. Our conversation with the Abomination had gone un-noticed by the rest of the ship, asleep or busy in their quarters. They had no idea what was coming for them.

I couldn't think about that. I had a job to do. I had to save my father – a task which I was only just now beginning to realize the impossibility of.

(Zendat.) I repeated. We were in front of one of three old, worn out fighters that would carry me away from this doomed ship. (Zendat, take the other fighter.)

(What? No. I'm going with you.) Zendat said, opening the hatch.

(No!) I said sharply. Visser Three was coming for me. For _me_. I had no choice but to allow myself to be caught. That was what I wanted, wasn't it? An opportunity to face the vile beast that enslaved my father head on? A chance to free him? To show my father that he was not the abomination his Yeerk was?

Yes, that was what I wanted. But faced with the looming terror of Visser Three's forces, I knew that there was no way I would survive this. Even if I freed my father, we would not escape the mass of Controllers Visser Three surrounded himself with. And I could not let Zendat fall with me.

(I'm going.) Zendat said forcibly. I was about to protest, but just then the ship rocked violently, throwing me to my knees as my hooves absorbed the shock wave. We had been hit! An alarm started blaring and the lights dimmed. A flurry of thought-speech erupted in my head from the crew, no longer unaware. I blocked them out, concentrating on my task.

(Come on.) Zendat said tersely, pulling me onto the ship with him. I was too frightened to resist further. There was another loud booming noise, another explosion from far off, and the lights went out entirely.

(They have disabled the ship.) Zendat's thoughts were soothing and I wondered if he could hear the stuttered pounding of my hearts. It was pitch black, and I could feel my panic growing. My instincts held a strong aversion to the dark, almost as strong as my aversion to closed spaces. Being in a dark, enclosed fighter was not helping the situation.

(Computer, power on.) Zendat said. I breathed a sigh of relief as the Bug Fighter powered on, throwing ghastly shadows around the fighter bay. The other two fighters hulked, like dark monsters in one of the Ancient Stories. I gave myself a mental shake. I could not be thinking of childhood stories now.

(Zendat, you should take another fighter.) I said, trying to sound convincing. I don't think I quite succeeded. The thought of being alone in the fighter made my skin crawl. (You'll have a better chance of escape.

(I'm not leaving you, Allora.) Zendat said firmly, (Now are you going to stand there looking petrified or come and work the computer?)

(Oh…of course.) I gave myself another mental shake and approached the controls. The system was incredibly simple; meant for a warrior, rather than a scientist. I was able to hack through the basic encryptions fairly quickly, giving Zendat control of the ships navigations. Tentatively I went to the weapons station, doubting that we would get an opportunity to use them.

(There hasn't been an explosion in awhile.) I said, trying to ward off the silence with my thoughts.

(No, there hasn't been.) Zendat didn't sound thrilled about this. (Which means they are preparing to board.)

(Oh. Then I suppose we should be leaving?)

(Yes, that would be a good idea, I think.)

(Zendat? There are dozens of Bug Fighters out there. What's to keep them from shooting us down?)

(They'll have been ordered not to kill you.) Zendat said, although he seemed uncertain, (Maybe if we open a communications link they will not kill us.)

(Yeah, maybe.) I said, (but they'll still shoot us down.)

(That's what you want, isn't it?) Zendat asked, (Maybe if they're concentrating on disabling the fighter they will leave the ship alone.)

I laughed harshly. Doubtful. (Worth a try, I suppose.)

I booted up the communications array, sending out a live visual and audio feed. I glanced at Zendat nervously, and he gave me a reassuring smile. Just then a Hork-Bajir face appeared on screen.

"Prepared to submit to the power of Visser Three, Andalite?" The Hork-Bajir asked in rough _Galard_. His yellow eyes blazed with an arrogance that made my muscles seize up. I felt a rush of hatred towards the gloating Yeerk.

(Not yet, filth.) I said coldly. (You'll have to catch me first. Zendat? Go!)

The world around me suddenly exploded into shifting shapes and colors. I was thrown off of my hooves, pinned to the back wall of the fighter. My stalks banged painfully against the low back ceiling.

(Sorry! Sorry!) Zendat cried, as the universe slowly righted itself once more. Through the view screen I could see millions of stars, glittering like precious gems.

(What happened?) I gasped, pulling myself back to my station and promptly cutting the communications, something I had planned on doing before I was thrown around like a driftball.

(Apparently these old fighters don't compensate very well for thrust. Are you alright?) Zendat looked me over with his stalk eyes, keeping his main eyes on the screen.

(I'll be fine.) I said. I was staring into the empty space, disoriented. Where was the cargo ship? Where were the Blade Ship and the Bug Fighters?

(Where is everyone?) I asked.

(Behind us.) Zendat said tersely, (Computer, full display.)

The angle of the screen widened, showing the full 360 degrees of space that surrounded us. I gasped. Behind us, hovering in space, were the cargo ship and the Blade Ship. And surrounding them like a swarm of _nyugat _flies were the Bug Fighters. Dozens of the small fighters surrounded the cargo ship. As I watched about half of the platoon split off from the Andalite ship and tore away on a new path. A new path directly towards us.

(Fly!) I cried, terrified.

(What do you think I'm doing!) Zendat said, (Besides, don't you want to get caught!?)

(Not anymore!) The sight of a dozen Yeerk ships, all on a direct intercept course with our ratty old fighter shook me to the core. Who was I, to think that I could fight that? Who was I to think that I had any power against the Yeerk Empire? I would never save my father, and I was going to die in my attempts. A ship full of Andalites was going to die. Zendat was going to die.

"I want to thank you for announcing your position to us." A cold voice interrupted. I nearly jumped out of my fur. Hadn't I shut the communications off? Apparently I had only managed to cut the video. The Hork-Bajir's voice was like a slap in the face.

(You'll never catch us.) I retorted, trying to sound braver than I felt.

"Oh I think we will." The Yeerk responded. "And in the meantime you have assured us that you are most certainly _not _aboard the cargo ship. So we won't have to waste our time being careful."

(What? No!) I cried, realizing my mistake too late. In horror I watched the surrounded cargo ship behind us. The Bug fighters had pulled away from it, giving me a clear view. You would almost think they were retreating. Almost, if not for the way they angled themselves so that there was no way the small Andalite vessel could escape. Almost, if not for the pinpoints of light that were their powered weapons.

(Zendat…) I whispered, feeling suddenly cold. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn't. I had to watch the destruction I had created.

TSEEEEEEW!

TSEEEEEWW!

I could hear the Dracon fire. I watched as the Andalite ship shuddered for a moment under the blast of a dozen Dracon's. Then, it exploded.

BA-BOOOOM

I watched in horror as the ship turned into a raging ball of fire, extinguished quickly in the vacuum of space. A moment later the shock wave hit us and our fighter rocked violently. I struggled to stay on my hooves, my eyes never leaving the charred nothingness that had been an Andalite ship.

(Oh….oh no…) I felt sick. Light headed. My hooves spasmed and I wondered if I was going to lose my last meal.

(Allora, take the weapons!) Zendat cried. I looked up at my friend. His face was drawn with terror, but he was still flying the ship. Flying it away from the increasing crowd of Bug Fighters. With the cargo ship gone, they could all focus on me now.

(Zendat…they're dead. All of them.) I said softly. The light-headed feeling struck again and I tottered slightly.

(Yes, they are.) Zendat said softly. (And so are we if we don't do something. Now take the weapons.)

(I don't know how to shoot.) I said, although I obediently approached the weapons station. In reality I didn't need to know how to aim well. The space behind us was so thick with Bug Fighters I couldn't imagine missing.

I powered up the weapons, flipping them on their pivots to face behind rather than ahead. The controls were unfamiliar but the computer program directing them was simple enough.

(The older models are controlled strictly by thought-speech) Zendat said distractedly, (Just tell it when to shoot.)

(Shoot.) I thought at the computer. A blue beam of light arched from the fighter towards the oncoming Bug Fighters. One of the fighters dodged, allowing the ship behind it to take the hit. The shot fighter veered off course, one of its stubby wings incinerated.

(I hit it!) I cried, surprised at my success.

(Yeah, congratulations.) Zendat said dryly, (One down and about ten thousand to go.)

I was about to respond to Zendat, but then I noticed the glow of the lead Bug Fighters weapons.

(They're going to shoot!) I cried. Zendat jerked the fighter down and the shot grazed overhead harmlessly.

(Nice flying!) I exalted. Maybe we would be okay. (Can this fighter go to Z-space?)

(Yes! Maybe if we -)

Zendat's thoughts were cut off as our fighter buckled. Like an angry Taxxon it twisted and writhed through space. We had been hit! For the second time I was thrown from my hooves and banged against the wall painfully. The lights went out and for a moment I felt myself weightless as the artificial gravity crashed.

(Computer, back up environmental systems on!) I cried. I crashed to the floor as gravity righted itself. Dim lights flickered on. (Zendat, are you okay!?)

(Ungh. Yeah. Ow.) Zendat was getting to his feet carefully. He had a large welt over one of his main eyes where he had hit a console, but otherwise seemed undamaged.

(What happened?) I asked.

(Our engines were hit.) Zendat said, (Computer systems are down, for the most part.)

(Maybe I can fix them.) I said, approaching the console.

(No. There's no time.) Zendat said. All four of his eyes were staring out the window. Our view was limited once more as the hit had knocked the view screen offline. We were staring out a true window now.

As I watched an arc of blue light seemed to rope its way down the window, glowing faintly. A moment later a second arc joined the first, then a third. Together the arcs twisted together, forming a glowing rope of sorts.

(What is -)

(Tractor beams.) Zendat said tersely, (Energy ropes.)

Slowly our ship began to rotate, under the influence of the energy ropes. The Bug fighters came back into view, a swirling hive of insects. None of them attacked. Rather, they swarmed around our fighter like some macabre entourage.

In the next moment I realized we were not just rotating, but moving forward. For just then the ship that I dreaded came into view. Desperately I tried to boot up the computer of our fighter, but the systems were completely shot. With a moan of anguish I caught Zendat's gaze. His eyes mirrored my terror. I felt his arm lace around my waist, holding me closely. Normally I would have pulled away, but I found that at that moment I needed his touch more than anything. It kept me from losing myself to my trepidation. To my terror.

We watched, holding one another close, as the Bug Fighters drew us slowly towards the belly of the Blade Ship.

* * *

**A/N: I figured after my prolonged absences you guys deserved a slightly longer chapter. I apologize if the writing seems a bit scattered. I was feeling a bit scattered while writing this. Not sure why. I think I'm mentally avoiding the next couple of chapters, because they're going to be painful to write. Allora's life is about to take a definite turn for the worse. Poor little Andalite.**

**R/R's are appreciated. Grateful as always to my faithful readers!**

**-T.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I really should just stop apologizing for the long breaks between chapters. I have a good excuse though! I was busy with NaNoWriMo all November, and writing for that completely overshadowed any fanfiction duties. It's over now, though (I won!) and I can return my attention to WoaN. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter.**

**-T.**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

My hearts had frozen, my lungs refused to draw fresh air. All seven fingers were clenched around Zendat's forearm as he held me close. The bright stars of space were rapidly vanishing as the Blade Ship filled our view.

I had often imagined this moment; the time when I would finally be face to face with my father once more. The opportunity I would create for myself that would, of course, result in his freedom. I had never dreamt of being a famous warrior, or stopping the Yeerk plague once and for all. That was Zendat. That was my father. I had merely dreamed of stopping one Yeerk, the one Yeerk who was responsible for the broken shards that were the remains of my family.

Once, I had called Zendat foolish for the bold vision of his future. Now, as our immobile fighter entered the brightly lit docking bay of the Blade Ship, I felt like the fool.

Who was I, to think that I stood a chance against the Yeerk might? Who was I, an insignificant little girl, to attempt to go up against even one Yeerk general? Did I honestly think that mere vengeance would be enough to accomplish what dozens, if not hundreds, of fully trained male Andalite warriors had failed in doing? Slay the Abomination, free my father. They were the dreams of a fool.

(Stop that.) Zendat's thoughts cut through my hollow reflection, and I jerked a stiff stalk eye in surprise. I realized all of my muscles were contracted and tight.

(Stop what?) I asked, although I wasn't paying close attention to his words. Instead I was focusing on the gentle bump as our ship touched down on the solid, sleek black floor that I suspected was composed primarily of Ramonite by the way the room seemed to expand as needed.

(Stop berating yourself.) Zendat said.

(Why should I?) I snapped, (It's entirely my fault that we are in this situation.)

(Yes, it is.) Zendat agreed. His thoughts were calm, but I could tell by the nervous way his tail was twitching that it was a façade.

(Well then why -)

(We don't have time for self-pity, Allora.) Zendat interrupted. (We need a plan.)

(A plan?) I laughed hollowly. There was a humming noise as the energy ropes shut off. I watched through our window bleakly as the Bug Fighter that had captured us touched down smoothly.

The docking bay was large, although not as large as that of an Andalite Dome Ship's. Several dozen Bug Fighters were parked in neat, military rows, looking like an army of insects ready to attack. The ships were impressive, but still inferior by Andalite standards. What truly scared me, though, were the Yeerks.

Controllers were everywhere! I had never seen a Hork-Bajir in person before, and they towered much taller than I had imagined, their glaring eyes cold and merciless. Their blades were smaller than Zendat's, but larger than mine and there were so many! I would be lucky to successfully fight off one of those beasts, and there were dozens. As if they needed more weaponry, each wore a Dracon Beam slung around their shoulder in a holster.

If the Hork-Bajir were terrifying, the Taxxon's were revolting. They slithered along on hundreds of tiny spindle-like legs, open mouths constantly searching for food. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination or not, but I swore that I could smell them from inside my locked ship. They too had weapons strapped around them. Additionally, many carried what looked like small portable computer pads.

(How can we possibly come up with a plan to fight all of this?) I asked Zendat. He seemed about to answer, but his thoughts halted abruptly when a distinct change came about the docking bay. All of the Yeerk workers, whether Taxxon or Hork-Bajir, came to an abrupt stop and turned to face the furthest wall. I strained my stalk eyes, trying to see what they were all staring at, but one of the Bug Fighters was blocking my view.

(It's him.) Zendat whispered tersely, and I started when I noticed that his voice had changed. Glancing over I realized that he had morphed into the more formidable Captain, all the while never releasing his grasp on me.

(Him?) I echoed, my stomach clenching, (As in…)

(Yeah.) Zendat affirmed. (Him.)

Slowly the sea of Yeerks parted, making a path that led directly to our stolen fighter. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to prepare myself for what I knew would come next.

(Well, well. What have we here?) The sneer in the thought-speech was so prominent that I could almost pretend it wasn't my father's familiar voice. Almost, until he came into view. A wave of hopelessness broke over me as his strong, powerful body appeared. Seeing Visser Three on the view screen earlier had shaken me to the core, but seeing him in person? It felt as if someone had opened me up and taken out all of my insides. I was utterly hollow. The only thing left was fear and despair as I took in my father's tall frame, his toned muscles, his lethal blade.

(It's okay, Allora.) Zendat said. His voice, like a small flame of warmth, drove out some of the emptiness. Not much, not nearly enough to make a difference, but enough that my brain thawed out and began to work again in stilted jerks.

Then the flame was blown out – a gust of wind dampening the fire. In its place was ice as my father's voice invaded my head.

(Allora.) The sound of my name in those cold, smirking undertones was like a slap to the face. I could see him, my father, Visser Three, looking up at our ship contemptuously. (You cannot hide from me. You cannot possibly escape. Open the hatch.)

(What do I do!?) I looked up at Zendat, having to tilt my stalk eyes further than usual due to his morph, feeling panic seizing at me.

(I don't know.) Zendat said. My tail twitched nervously, erratically. There had to be a solution – there had to! I just had to buy myself some time. Visser Three wouldn't kill me straight out, would he? No, he was a cruel and evil creature. He would force my father to suffer as long as possible.

My stomach rolled with nausea. In my attempts to save my father I had only made it that much worse. Even if I were to survive this, it would not be a happy life that faced me. And Zendat…the Visser had no reason to keep him alive.

(That's it!) I cried suddenly. (The Yeerk won't keep you alive!)

(Thank you for the reminder.) Zendat said dryly. He was no longer looking at me – all four of his eyes were locked on the rows of Yeerks outside the window.

(No, Zendat, listen. He won't kill _me_. He'll kill _you_.) I insisted in a rush, (But what if there are two of me?)

(You…you want me to morph you?) Zendat asked, his attention snapping back to me in astonishment. He wasn't letting his shock get in the way of his survival instinct, though. Already he was growing smaller, shedding the older male physique.

(It's the only thing that will buy us time.) I said. (You morph me and then the Visser won't know who to kill.)

(That will only buy us two hours.) Zendat pointed out.

(Yeah, well, two hours is better than two minutes.) I countered. Zendat's only response to that was a small dip of his stalk eyes, which were now his own once more. We were already touching – my hands still wrapped tightly around his own – and now I felt a strange wave of lethargy creep through me. I welcomed it: the trance buried the panic in my mind beneath a blanket of warm contentment. I sighed deeply, wondering if there was time for a nap.

(I will not ask again, Andalite.) The thought-speech of Visser Three jerked me from my trance and the pain and fear came rushing back, nearly knocking the wind from me.

(Are you sure about this, Allora?) Zendat asked, sounding embarrassed.

(Yes, I'm sure.) I hissed.

(But…I'll be morphing a girl.) He said again, almost causing me to thrash him with my tail in frustration.

(Zendat, we don't really have many options right now. Your only other morphs are a _kafit _bird, a _djabala _and the Captain – none of which are remotely helpful at the moment.)

(Alright, alright.) Zendat said, still sounding awkward. A moment later his fur began to shift from blue to my more purple hue. I looked away, feeling a bit odd about watching Zendat turn into me. Unfortunately the only other place to look was at my father's stolen body.

(I am surprised, Andalite.) The Yeerk hissed, (After all that trouble and you don't even want to say hello? Very well. If you do not wish to come out peaceably we will carry you out, in pieces if necessary.)

(Wait.) I said openly, as the front line of Hork-Bajir began to advance. They stopped in their tracks, looking to their Visser for instruction. He held up a hand and they stood, waiting.

(I will show myself.) I said, trying unsuccessfully to hide the quaver in my voice.

(Then by all means, proceed.) The Visser smirked. I glanced behind me, starting a little when I saw Zendat. I had been expecting it of course, but it was still startling to see an identical version of yourself where your best friend was moments before.

(Let's go.) I said softly. He took my hand, and the trembling subsided slightly.

(Computer, open hatch.) Zendat ordered in a perfect imitation of my voice. I squeezed his hand as the circle of light appeared and grew larger, opening up and forming a small ramp that we could walk down. I took a deep breath and, together, Zendat and I stepped out of the fighter.

For a long moment there was silence, thick and tense, throughout the room. Then a Taxxon hissed something unintelligible in its foul language. Faster than lightning my father's tail snapped back, spilling the insides of the Taxxon onto the shiny black floor.

(You fool, of course one of them is in morph!) Visser Three snapped. (Someone take care of that mess.)

Two Taxxons eagerly broke rank and began to fight over the rank remains of the still partially-alive Taxxon-Controller.

(So. You think that you will confuse me.) The Visser said silkily, stepping forward. (You try to play with my hosts sympathies and belittle me. Well, no matter.)

The Visser's main eyes moved from my to Zendat's face, considering his options. I struggled to remain as calm as possible, but tiny tremors were rolling through my body like miniature earthquakes.

(He is being rather noisy right now, you know.) Visser Three said suddenly. It took me a moment to figure out who he was talking about. Of course. My father. He was putting up a fight!

(It pains him that his youngest daughter did not heed his warning.) The vile Yeerk continued, (He warned you to stay away from the military. You promised, gave your word. You know how much importance Alloran puts on a promise.)

(Say nothing.) Zendat warned, pulling me closer to him, (Don't give yourself away.)

I struggled to remain silent. The Visser's words cut deep at me, and I wanted to tell my father that I hadn't joined the military. I had found another way. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for hurting him, that I missed him. That I loved him. But I was silent. Painfully, achingly silent.

(Alloran never had such problems with Foresha.) Visser Three went on. My tail twitched involuntarily, and I noticed the Visser's stalk eye follow the motion. (She did what she was told. She followed orders. She was always the dependable daughter.)

(Allora.) Zendat said lowly. There was a rushing sound in my ears. Who was this evil, despicable lowly _Yeerk _to be saying such things about me and my family!

(You have probably driven your mother sick with worry. And all for what?) Visser Three continued, his eyes shining (To die at the hands of your father. It's rather poetic, don't you think? I'm sure Jahar won't think so, but she'll have Foresha.)

(Leave them out of this, you -) I erupted. I was unable to tell the Visser exactly what I thought of him, though. As soon as I jumped forward, head full of the worst insults I could muster, several things happened at once.

Zendat reached out for me, a cry of anguish in his mind.

Visser Three smirked in victory and nodded.

Two Hork-Bajir raised their Dracon Beams at Zendat and me.

The last thing I saw was my father's eyes glowing with triumph. Then my world went black.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Look how fast I was at getting this one up! Aren't you proud of me? Thanks to my readers and reviewers!

-T.

**Chapter Seventeen**

I did not dream. The unconscious hours slipped by, unmarked. Blackness swirled around me, and I welcomed it. Some small, barely lucid part of me wished that the silence could go on forever. That the darkness could swallow me under like a tidal wave, leaving me powerless to resist. Powerless to wake.

I was denied that pleasure.

It started as a pinprick of light, invading my coveted darkness. Blood red, pulsing with the distant beat of my heart. The throbbing light grew, washing the blackness away. It took me awhile to realize that I was feeling pain. That the red that surrounded me was merely an abstract visualization of my physical sufferings.

As soon as I became aware of pain, it bombarded me. White hot and unbearable. I was burning alive! My mind writhed and twisted, trying to evade the sting of an unseen enemy. I tried to drag myself further into unconsciousness, away from the pain and back into the warm, comfortable darkness. It was like trying to gallop through mud, like trying to defy my father. Impossible.

My eyes snapped open.

Instantly the pain ceased. I felt my muscles jerk and relax with relief. For a few moments I hung onto that feeling of release, sighing happily. I had _survived_.

"That took a higher dosage than I thought." An amused voice said, snapping me from my reverie. The first thing that I saw was clearly an alien. It was obviously the one who had spoken, its Galard rough and unfamiliar on its mouth parts.

The creature was bizarre. It had a basic body structure similar to that of a Hork-Bajir: two legs, two arms, neck and head. The similarities ended there, however. This particular creature had no natural weapons like a Hork-Bajir. In fact, it seemed fairly weak. Its skin boasted a broad array of colors; blue at the legs, vivid green on the torso. Its hooves were white, and the pale, slender hands and face were a creamy color. There was no fur, only a sprout of jet black hair that came from the top of its head and ending just below a pair of odd-shaped ears. The eyes were a ferocious, glittery black, similar to those of a _hrung _beetle.

I was so focused on this bizarre creature that for a moment I forgot where I was. _The Blade Ship_. I reminded myself, a thrill of terror running up my spine. I widened my perspective, forcing myself to look beyond the alien. I was in a small room, only a little bigger than my quarters had been on the Dome Ship. The floor, walls and ceiling were all the same brilliant shade of sterile white.

_It's a lab, _I realized. There were holographic consoles lining the walls, spitting out information in Galard. The alien was leaning casually against one of the consoles; its mouth parts twisted into what I could only imagine was a cruel sneer. Clearly a Controller.

(Yeerk.) I spat, doing all I could to keep the fear out and the hatred in. It wasn't too hard. This alien did not look like much of a creature to be feared. Even I could annihilate it in a fight.

"Very astute, Andalite." The alien said, mouth parts leering wider, "It's no wonder you call yourself the kings of the galaxy."

(Visser Three was foolish to place you as my only guard.) I shot back. I took a step forward, but it was difficult. My balance felt off, and I felt oddly weighted down. It didn't take long to find the culprit. A glance back with my stalk eyes showed me that my tail was weighted down, just below the blade.

"You'll find that in addition to the tail restraint there is a rather potent force field about a foot away from you. I wouldn't advise testing it out." The Yeerk said lightly. I contemplated trying to break free anyways, but suddenly I realized…I was alone in the room.

(Where is Zendat?) I asked sharply.

"Is that the other ones name?" The alien asked calmly, brushing its hand through its hair and making it stand up erratically. "Do not worry, your friend is alive. More or less."

The offhanded way he said those three words chilled me to the bone. More or less? What did that mean? What had they done to him?

(Let me see him.) I said. I had to see…had to make sure that he was alright.

"I hardly think that you are in the position to be making such demands." The Yeerk sneered. "In fact, you're not in a position to do much of anything."

(I don't care, let me see him!) I cried. I took a step forward, intending to threaten the weak alien. Tail blade or no tail blade, I was confident that I would be stronger than this odd-looking creature.

TZAAAP!

My world was on fire. Explosions erupted in my brain and I was vaguely aware of the fact that I was flying backwards, through the air. For a moment it was as if I was floating and then, with a sickening _crack, _I fell against the wall.

"I told you not to test the force field." The Yeerk laughed. It was a disgusting sound and my insides writhed with hatred as I took stock of my injuries. My left front leg, where I had made direct contact with the force field, was scorched. The fur had been burnt right off and the flesh underneath was raw. Beyond that it seemed that I only had a few bruises.

(What…was that?) I gasped, pulling myself to my hooves. I set my wounded leg down gingerly, but quickly pulled it up again when a white hot pain seared through it. I wouldn't be walking on it for some time.

"It's quite simple, really." The Yeerk said, striding over to a computer display. He pulled up a holographic display, which was spewing out a wide variety of numbers and figures. The symbols didn't make much discernable sense to me, and I waited for a more thorough answer.

"Your vitals." The Yeerk explained, nodding at the hologram, "While you were unconscious we implanted a simple receiver in your brain, which-"

(You did _what_?) I cried, hand flying to the back of my head as if to protect it.

"We implanted a receiver." The Yeerk repeated. "It keeps track of all the essential information. Heart rate, blood-sugar level, chemical composition shifts and so on. The force field is linked into the system and it takes all of this information into account. When you come into contact with the field it emits a Dracon Beam pulse of just the right amount to hurt you without the unfortunate side effect of knocking you out, or killing you."

I let that sink in, confusion slowly evolving into something deeper. Something that pulsed warm, deep inside of me. Rage.

(You put something _inside of me_.) I said slowly. I wanted to leap at the filthy Yeerk and show him exactly why the Andalites were the most powerful race in the galaxy. I wanted to use my tail to dig him out of his host and chop him to pieces.

But I restrained myself. There would be no point in attacking. I would only damage myself further, and that was a bad idea. As vile as this Yeerk was, I knew he was far from the worst that Visser Three had to offer.

"Would you like to see what else it can do?" The Yeerk asked with a smirk of glee.

(Get it out of me.) I demanded.

"It's part of a much larger plan, actually." The Yeerk continued, as if I hadn't said anything, "Very recently we encountered a plague of Andalite bandits on the planet that is native to my host. Visser Three has requested a new form of torture be devised, as a way to force the bandits to reveal themselves from their morphs. This is a prototype. The final product will not be an implant, of course. It will be something a bit more far-reaching."

(Get it out!) I cried. I didn't care about his stupid science experiments, or a group of Andalites light years away. The only Andalite I wanted to see right now was right here, on this ship. Actually, the only _two _Andalites that I wanted to see were on this ship.

"Come now, don't be impolite." The Yeerk said with mock offense. "I really think that you'll be quite impressed."

The Yeerk moved back to a different console. This one was much simpler. There were two manual buttons, with a small holographic read-out that was written in the Yeerk language rather than Galard. He turned back to glance at me with narrowed, glittering black eyes.

"Ready?" He asked. I stiffened, preparing for whatever he had planned. The Yeerk's hand hovered over one of the buttons. I took a deep breath, wishing desperately that Zendat were here to provide some comfort. I was so focused on the Yeerk's five-fingered hand that I didn't even notice the door to the lab open. Not until the icy, arrogant voice filled my head did I jerk my stalk eyes, and then my main eyes, away from the computer to stare.

(Reshnar. What are you doing?) My father – no, Visser Three – stood in the doorway.

I had spent many nights anticipating the moment I would face the Yeerk who stole my father. In my head I had gone over the many things I wanted to say to the slug, and the many questions I had for my father. Now, however, in his presence at last, my mind went blank.

The fact that I had grown to adulthood in his absence seemed to have no bearing over his size. He was huge, towering above me. Evil radiated from him like a stench, forcing me to take an involuntary step backward. There was nothing _to _say to him. When Visser Three was in the room, he had supremacy.

"I…Visser, I was just…" Apparently Reshnar felt the same impenetrable power. His hand withdrew quickly from the button and he moved back against the far wall, stammering incoherently.

(Did I not say that I wished to be present before anyone touched her?) The Visser asked, stepping forward. Had my father's tail blade always been so large and menacing?

"Y-yes sir!" The Yeerk, Reshnar, said quickly.

(And yet I find her damaged.) His eyes swept over me, pausing on my wounded leg. I held back a shiver.

"Sh-she tried to get past the f-force field, sir." Reshnar stammered. For a moment silence fell upon the room as the Visser considered Reshnar's fate.

(It is fortunate that you are necessary for this project.) Visser Three finally said. Reshnar sagged with relief, nearly falling to his knees. (Get out.)

"Yes sir!" Reshnar cried. He scurried past the Visser and out the door quicker than I would have thought possible for a creature with two legs and no tail. The door slid shut behind him, and I was alone. With Visser Three.

(Humans are our newest acquisition.) He said conversationally, (Remarkable creatures, no? Ridiculously weak, yet incredibly adaptable. And, more importantly, numerous. Earth will become a cornerstone to our Empire.)

I did not respond. I had nothing to say. My mind was reeling from the juxtaposition of staring at my father and staring at an evil Yeerk warlord. For a moment we stared at one another. When Visser Three finally spoke it was that my father would have said were he able.

(You are a very foolish girl, Allora.) The words were right, but the tone was all wrong. My father had called me foolish many times, but always with a certain amount of affection. There was no semblance of love here. My father's eyes were cold and flat.

(Yes.) I whispered, for there was no other answer. I was foolish. Incredibly so. Every decision I had made was a result of my delusions of grandeur. As if I ever had a chance…

(Are you afraid?) Visser Three stepped towards me, and this time I did step back, crying out silently as I put weight on my injured leg.

(No.) I lied quickly. _Never show fear_. My father had once told me that your biggest weakness is allowing the enemy to feel your fear. They feed off of it, grow from it, and thrive on it. As soon as you let your fear show it begins to overcome you.

(Your father is afraid.) Visser Three said softly, making my stomach clench, (He fears for you. For what I will do to you.)

(My father is never afraid.) I said, surprised at the force with which I was able to speak. The idea was ridiculous. Even in the depths of depression and shame my father was never _afraid_. Angry, sullen and misunderstood, perhaps. But afraid? Never.

(Oh yes.) Visser Three said, smiling in a way that made me want to both back away and launch an attack. (He is begging me. Pleading with me to let you go, to leave you be. Fighting for an ounce of control.)

(Stop it!) I cried, wincing away from the image. (I want Zendat.) The words slipped out before I could censor them. Finally faced with my father, all I wanted was my _aristh _friend. I needed his courage, his hope. I couldn't face this alone.

(The other bit of Andalite filth?) Visser Three smirked, (That was quite ingenious of you, having him morph to distract me. I should have killed him immediately, of course. But that would have been…wasteful.)

(Is he…) But I couldn't say it. Couldn't think it.

(He has not been infested.) Visser Three said with a chuckle. (Not yet, at least.)

Not yet. There was still a chance then, if only I could get to him. He would know what to do. He had been trained for these sorts of situations. Funny how the hopeless, irritating _aristh _was now the one person I could depend on. The one person I could trust despite all of my hideous mistakes.

(Would you like to be reunited?) The Visser smirked. Something about his tone made me shiver. He wanted me to see him. Why? What had they done to him?

(If you hurt him…) The threat died in my mind as I realized that there was very little I could threaten him with. My tail was pinned to the ground, useless. I was in the depths of Visser Three's Blade Ship, and if I tried to run I would be thrown back by that despicable force field.

(Your filthy companion is quite unscathed.) The Visser laughed again, a sound that stuck in my heart as if someone had pierced it with their blade. He turned and walked purposefully over to the computer, to the two buttons that had been left untouched by the human-Controller.

(I trust that Reshnar told you all about my newest toy.) Visser Three said.

(No.) I choked out. What did this have to do with Zendat?

(The chip we have implanted in your brain is also a receiver. The computer sends a signal to your brain that elicits a predetermined response.) He pointed to the first button. (Pain.) His finger moved to stroke the next button gently, (Or pleasure.)

(You're sick.) I hissed. It was easier to talk to him when I thought of him merely as a Yeerk, not as the Yeerk who inhabited my father's head. (Get this thing out of me. Show me Zendat.)

(Computer, transparent.) Visser three commanded. At his word the wall that my force field cage was backed against became translucent. The room beyond was an identical copy of the one I was standing in.

(Zendat?) I whispered.

Visser Three was right. He was unharmed. He was also undoubtedly free, which would explain why he was also imprisoned. He was also an identical copy of me.

(How long?) I asked, my eyes unable to leave Zendat's. He stared back at me, unspeaking. The way his shoulders were slumped, the dull look in his eyes…I knew. I knew, but I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it.

(Too long.) Visser Three said, triumph clear on his face.

(You did this! You filthy slug!) I cried. I reared up, but was forced back as the force field snapped and hissed against my hoof. Zendat said nothing, his face emotionless. The Visser laughed and pressed the first button.

My world exploded in pain and I was forced to my knees. I screamed again and again, begging for death to claim me.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so for those of you who are currently screaming at the computer for what I did to Zendat...chill. This is why I don't do romance...it always ends up screwy. Besides, this needs to happen for the storyline, so you'll just have to deal. Don't worry, Allora is able to look beyond mere appearances. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: This chapter doesn't cover a wide time span, but it's entirely necessary for the development of Allora's character. I apologize for the lapse in posting lately. From now until March it's going to be rather hectic in my life. I promise that I will try to post as frequently as possible.**

**Thanks as always to my readers!!**

**Love always,**

**T.**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen  
**

At first I resisted the pain. The chip that the Yeerks had implanted in my head set off signal after signal of agony, forcing my knees to buckle, my arms and legs and stalks to twitch erratically. I lost consciousness. I don't know for how long. When I came to, it was not because the pain had stopped. It was because it hurt too much for me to hold on to the blackness. Or maybe I _was _still unconscious. It was hard to tell.

_My father stood over me, muscles bulging, fur gleaming like iridescent metal. His tail was cocked dangerously, waiting for an excuse to strike again. I looked to my sister for help, but she was carefully avoiding my gaze. Her main eyes were on father, her stalks looking conspicuously in all directions but mine._

_(I am sorry father…) I whispered, looking to his massive hooves._

_(Look at me when you speak, Allora.) My father said sternly. Obediently I lifted my main eyes, grimacing at the disappointment etched on his face. (Tell me, Allora. What exactly were you thinking?)_

_(I…Terleen and some of her friends decided to play driftball.) I said, the story spilling out of me, making me flush with embarrassment. (They invited me, and I…accepted the invitation.)_

_FWAPP!_

_I staggered, a stinging pain sweeping my left flank. I hadn't even seen his tail move before it was back in position again. He had struck me with the flat of his blade, leaving no lasting impression. A bruise would form later._

_(That is it?) He asked, not yelling, but speaking with the soft, dangerous cadence that told me I was in deep trouble. (You left school, abandoned your studies and did not come home until far past dark for that? You worried your mother half to death over a game of _driftball_?)_

_(Yes, sir.) I said softly, my stalk eyes drooping. I winced, waiting for the next strike. But it never came. For a few seconds that lasted a lifetime my father and I stood, facing one another, I cowering and he dominating. Then he lowered his tail, looked me straight in the eyes and spoke in the same tone he reserved for his subordinates._

_(You are restricted to the scoop and your educational facilities until I see fit to allow you privileges.)_

_(Yes, father.) I said quietly, my gaze shifting to the ground once more._

_(You are a disgraceful, selfish daughter, Allora. I am ashamed to have you bear my name.) He scuffed the dirt, punctuating his insult, and walked away with his tail held high._

Someone was screaming. Was it me? It sounded like me. I felt vaguely as if I had left my own body. I was watching myself writhe and twitch in agony from above. My vision must have been blurring, because it seemed as though there were two of me. The one twisted and broken on the ground, and one watching in horror. And then there was the me floating above it all. I had fractured, split into separate parts. Each one felt its own agony, its own indescribable white hot pain.

_(Just because your father is Alloran, you think that you're better than us?) The Andalite boy, Rasten, sneered._

_(No, I-) I began to protest, but I was cut off._

_(You think that having a disgraced father makes you special?) He twirled his tail menacingly. I cocked my own blade, prepared to defend myself if necessary. Knowing I would fail. It was the third time this week that Rasten had cornered me. The cuts along my arms and back were just beginning to heal. I had showed them to my mother, but she had been too distracted by my father's suddenly obvious presence in our scoop. My father merely looked blankly at the wounds, and muttered something unintelligible about doing what must be done._

_(Ahh!) I cried out. In my distracted state, Rasten had struck. A shallow line opened up along the base of my tail and began oozing bluish blood. I backed away as he prepared another assault._

_(Why do you hate me so much!?) I cried, (What did I ever do to you!?)_

_(Our father's served together.) Rasten said._

_(So?) I asked angrily, (What does that have to do with anything? Your father isn't the disgraced one!)_

_(No.) Rasten replied softly. (My father is dead.)_

My two consciousnesses seemed to rejoin. This was not a good thing. All that happened was my pain doubled in intensity. No longer was I watching myself writhe in agony. I could feel it in every bone in my body. I could feel my hearts stuttering, speeding up, slowing down, trying to cope with what was happening to my body. My vision had turned red, but I could see him, just beyond the inescapable force field. The body that had once belonged to my father, laughing to himself as he watched my suffering.

(I hate you…) I gasped out, before going under again.

_(I hate you! I hate you!) Foresha cried, completely out of character. Her eyes were narrowed at me. She was angry. I had interrupted her while she was studying, only to discover that she had not been studying at all. She had been with a male Andalite._

_(I'm sorry!) I responded._

_(I can't believe you told father! You are such a-) But what I was seemed to have escaped her. She just cried out in frustration, swinging her tail at a nearby tree. It shook under the impact, sending leaves fluttering down around us._

_(All you think about is yourself.) Foresha said coldly, (Do you have no sense of honor?)_

_(Honor!?) I replied, astonished, (I wasn't the one slinking away into the woods with some _male!)

_(Hmph.) Foresha scowled, (As of now, we are no longer speaking. Goodbye Allora. Good luck surviving alone with mom. Especially when you know she loves me more.) My sister drew herself up proudly, (I'm the one with a future.)_

A slice of light seemed to cut through me. _My stalk eyes don't hurt_, I realized. I focused all of my conscious mind on them, the one small part of my body that was not in agony. Bit by bit, the pain began to recede. Inch by inch, I fought the torture back. When it was finally gone, all gone, I lay on the ground, relishing in the cool ramonite beneath my fur. My breath came in heaving gasps, and I realized that my hooves had expelled their last meal. I was covered in a film of sweat.

(I won.) I managed to whisper, speaking to no one in particular. A low chuckle forced me to raise my stalk eyes ever so slightly, focusing on the hazy image of Visser Three. He was Visser Three to me now, I realized. After what he had forced me to endure I could not see my father in him. My father was dead.

(You did not win anything, Allora.) Visser Three said, (I turned the machine off. I do not want to kill you, after all. Not yet, at least.)

(Why? Why not just get this over with? Why not just infest me, or kill me, or whatever it is you have planned?) I gasped. I tried to stand, but my knees were too weak for my weight. I barely pulled myself an inch off of the cold ground before collapsing once more.

(In due time.) Visser Three said. (I think your father would appreciate seeing you alive…and free…for some time yet.)

(Allora!) The new voice cut through me, and I jerked my stalk eyes, searching for the source of the thoughts. What I saw didn't make sense. Was one of the walls of my cage reflective? A mirror of sorts to watch my agony? But no, that didn't make sense. The Allora I was looking at, the identical copy of me, was not lying on the floor in agony. No, she was standing, a look of horror in her eyes.

_Zendat. _My mind supplied, working slower than normal in lieu of my predicament. _Zendat morphed me to confuse the Visser._

(Zendat?) I asked, confused. Why was he still in morph? He could fight better in his own form. What use were we as two weak females?

There was a long silence. The horror in the eyes that were mine but belonged to Zendat dimmed, leaving emptiness behind. I struggled again, trying to pull myself to my hooves. Perhaps if I looked at Zendat more directly, I would understand. Slowly, shaking, I pulled myself up. My legs were still shaky, but this time they held my weight.

(Zendat, why-) I stopped. The answer came to me, a few gallops behind as was my initial assessment of him. _Nothlit._ The word froze my blood. Zendat was a _nothlit. _He was trapped, permanently in morph. Worse, he was trapped permanently in the morph of _my _form. And it was my fault.

(So sorry to split up the reunion.) Visser Three said brusquely. (Opaque.) The transparent wall separating Zendat's imprisonment from my own turned solid once more. A fatal mistake hidden from my sight, as if that made it any better. Visser Three's torture had left me weak from pain, but this hurt in a completely different way. My own selfish desires had brought nothing but destruction, pain, and loss. All my fault.

(Please.) I whispered to the Visser. Please what? Please kill me? Wipe away every atom in my body? Did I want that? No. What good would that do? How would that save Zendat? What would that do for those dead as a result of my choices?

I felt as if I had ingested poison. It ripped and tore through my body, while Visser Three watched in amusement, waiting for me to finish my request. What could possibly make me forget about this guilt? What could make it go away, just for a little while?

My muscles rippled, slackened in defeat. I knew the answer, of course. I had to continue to be selfish. I was not strong enough to bear that look in Zendat's eyes. I was not strong enough to live in clarity – not knowing what I had done to a ship full of Andalites. Not when all of my efforts had been in vain. Not when Visser Three still stood before me, proud and unharmed.

(Please…) I repeated, (Do it again.)

For a moment the Visser appeared surprised with my request. He seemed to hesitate, no doubt wondering if it were some sort of trick.

(Again!) I cried, not bothering to shield my thought-speech. (Again!)

(You welcome the pain.) Visser Three noted, looking me over with unimpressed eyes. (Well, who am I to deny someone who asks so readily?) He moved back to the panel, hand hovering over the red button. (Do not grow too comfortable, Allora. When I tire of this, we will move on to much more…personal…endeavors.) He paused, and I felt a chill run through my bones.

(I will break you, Allora. I promise you that.)

I closed all four of my eyes, blocking out the image of Visser Three. Blocking out the memory of Zendat, the sounds of space battle, the sight of a dozen Andalites disappearing in a flash. I closed my eyes and accepted the pain, a smile on my face as I screamed.

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: It's official; Weight of a Name is now my highest reviewed story on . It surpassed its sister story, The Traitor, with the publication of my latest chapter. Thanks so much guys! It's great to know that there is still an audience for my stories, and that you guys stick with me despite my often infrequent updates. And now, on with the show!**

**-T.  
**

**Chapter Nineteen**

Time moved erratically, uncertainly. My natural ability to track time was damaged, whether from being far from the gravitational pull of a planet or from Visser Three's "sessions", I was not sure. Instead of minutes and hours, time began to punctuate itself with events. Time with Visser Three, time alone in my cell, time lost in memories, time speaking with Zendat.

I had no idea how long it had been since Zendat and I had tried to free my father and condemned a dozen Andalites to death. Long enough for Visser Three to shed his rank and become Visser One. Long enough for Zendat to regain a miniscule amount of his old personality. Long enough for me to beg for death a hundred times over, only to be brought back from the brink for more suffering.

The Visser was true to his word. When he tired of his new machine, new tortures emerged. I was brought to his personal quarters, a hellish room where the walls had been decorated with torture devices from alien worlds. He began to experiment. One device was designed to rip my fingernails out from the roots, another squeezed my arms and legs until the bones were nearly crushed from the pressure. Yet another restricted my breathing so that I suffered from delirium, convinced that I was suffocating. And, when he tired of his torture devices, he moved on to what was probably the most excruciating of all. He had not lied when he promised that our sessions would become more personal…

The end of each session marked the end of another day. Battered and beaten, but not beyond medical attention, I was returned to my cage to cower in disgust at myself and in hatred towards Visser One. Consciousness would fade away, and my dreams would provide the next torment.

Zendat was the only splinter of life in my life. He had not been tortured. He had not been moved. In fact, for reasons entirely unknown to me, not much of anything had been done to him. His torture, thus far, had been watching mine.

(When is it going to end?) He asked me one day, as I was pulling myself slowly to my feet, well aware of each and every crack and pop in my bones as I did so.

(When he kills us.) I responded heavily.

(If he wanted us dead, he would have killed us already.)

(He'll kill us.) I affirmed. I had no doubt of that. (When he grows tired of us, we will die.)

(You were always such a pessimist.) Zendat said, a shadowy attempt at humor. I grunted in response. A few moments of silence stretched between us and I stretched my tired muscles, trying to work out the ache that wouldn't leave.

(You know what I think?) Zendat asked, breaking the silence. I grunted again, and he went on, (I think that Visser One is stalling.)

(Stalling?) I asked dubiously.

(Yeah. I don't think he knows what to do with us. Any other Yeerk would jump on the chance to infest two Andalites, or at least kill them and make an example of us. But not Visser One.)

(That's because Visser One is sadistic.) I reminded him.

(No,) Zendat said. I imagined that he was shaking his head, although I could not see him. The wall between our cages was opaque, per usual. It was probably for the better, though. It still made my stomach clench every time I saw Zendat in my body.

(No? Visser One _isn't _sadistic?) I asked.

(That's not what I meant.) Zendat said, and I could almost feel his eyes rolling. (Look, he's the only Andalite Controller, right? That makes him special. I don't think he's ready to have us infested, because he would no longer be special.)

(Alright.) I said slowly, (so why hasn't he killed us?)

(Well…I'm going to guess that if his leaders, the Council of Thirteen, found out that he had a couple of Andalites prisoner – a couple of _live _Andalites – and he killed them off, they wouldn't be too happy. After all, the Council wants more Andalite hosts. Right?)

I hesitated. Zendat had a point. Were we alive and free only because of Visser One's indecision? It seemed plausible.

(Okay. Maybe you're right.) I allowed, (I don't see how that helps our situation out at all.)

(I don't know either.) Zendat admitted, (But it's something to think about…)

(Right.) I snorted, (You think. I'm going to get whatever rest I can manage before my next visit from our indecisive sociopath.)

I waited for Zendat to respond sarcastically, as the old Zendat would have done. Nothing but silence came, though. I realized that he was probably deep in thought, pondering his discovery. This worried me a bit. The old Zendat had never spent quite so much time _thinking_. I fell asleep wondering what that meant for my _aristh _friend.

(AHH!) My body spasmed and twisted erratically. All four eyes snapped open at once, and I could have sworn that I saw sparks flying. With the same speed that the electric pain had arrived, it departed, leaving me gasping for breath and wide awake.

(Get up.) A cold voice ordered. I looked up into the face of my tormentor. Visser One's face was blank, emotionless, as it often was before we began our sessions. I groaned and pulled myself to my feet, almost staggering into the force field as I did so.

Visser One must have ordered the force field down, because a moment more and three Hork-Bajir were on me, securing my tail and trussing my hands together. I am not entirely sure why they bothered. My muscles were so weak that I doubt I could have used my tail if I wanted to.

(Follow.) Visser One commanded. He turned and walked out of the room, one stalk eye turned on me to ensure that I was staying close. The Hork-Bajir guard pushed and shoved me along, making me stagger as I struggled to keep up with the Visser's long, healthy stride.

It took me a minute to realize that we were not going to the Visser's quarters. We had entered an entirely unfamiliar part of the ship I surmised that we were headed towards the bridge by the increased amount of activity, but really it was hard to tell. Everything looked the same. All black edges and cold steel, with slaves running to and fro under the bidding of their masters.

(What will you do when the Council finds out about us?) I asked, remembering my conversation with Zendat. The Visser appeared surprised. He turned a second stalk eye on me. It was the lengthiest, most coherent sentence I had uttered to him in a long time.

(Excuse me, Andalite?) He asked.

(I'm sure they won't be too happy to find out that you've had a couple of Andalite captives here all this time and haven't done anything with them.) I went on. I noted the stiffening of the Visser's back muscles, the way his stalk eyes narrowed. Zendat was right, he was nervous.

(The Council,) Visser One said slowly, (is none of your concern.)

(But it is your concern.) I said boldly, (what do you think your Council does to Yeerks who keep the enemy alive? I believe that is what they call a collaborator.)

(Fool!) Visser One turned to glare at me with all four eyes, raising his tail high. I shrank back, trying to move away from him, but the Hork-Bajir blocked my escape. For a long, tense moment no one said anything. I waited for him to attack, but to my surprise none came. Eventually, after what seemed like ages, the Visser's tail lowered and his face calmed.

(I have realized the error in my sessions with you.) Visser One said softly, his voice silky. I did not respond.

(You see,) he went on, (Somewhere along the lines _you _forgot what you were here for in the first place.)

(I came for my father.) I said. (I have not forgotten. I have merely accepted that my father is dead.)

(Exactly!) Visser One said, grinning with his eyes, (That is exactly the error which I need to correct. You have lost sight of your mission. You have written off your father as dead and, with nothing to fight for, you have grown quite boring.)

(I apologize for not being entertaining enough, Yeerk.) I spat. (If I screamed a bit louder, would you be happier then?)

(No, no.) Visser One said, the leer in his eyes still quite evident. (Follow me, Allora. I will remind you why you are fighting.)

Visser One turned again and continued his way down the hall. I hesitated, confused. The first traces of fresh fear were welling up in my stomach. I had grown to expect Visser One's tortures. I could prepare myself for the agony. Now I was entering an unknown, and it made the fur on my back and forearms stand up in fright.

We pushed on, and it became apparent that we were in fact headed towards the bridge. The hall eventually widened out and gave way to a triangular room with a raised platform. Along the edges of the room were various work stations, where Taxxons, Hork-Bajir, Gedds and humans – all Controllers – carried out their work. There was a holographic view screen showing what lay beyond the ship. I saw that we were in orbit over a blue and green planet that was very similar to my own homeworld. Similar enough to make my hearts ache.

I did not get to stare at that alien world for long, though. Visser One passed through the bridge and went through a side door. I followed with my guard, ignoring the stares of the Yeerks working the bridge.

The room that we entered was dimly lit, with a pungent smell that accosted my nostrils. Most of the large room was empty, except for a large circular opening in the center of the floor. The opening sloshed with a thick, sludgy liquid that shone red under the dim lights, although I knew it was actually gray.

_Yeerk Pool._ It was finally happening. They were going to infest me! I scuttled backwards awkwardly, my restrained tail restricting my movements. The Hork-Bajir grabbed me by the arms and held me as I thrashed.

(NO! You won't make me one of you! No!) I cried, struggling vainly to escape their grasp. I only stopped when one of the Hork-Bajir put his wrist blade to my throat, pressing down ever so slightly on the artery that pumped there.

(Calm yourself, Allora.) Visser One said in a disgustingly soothing voice. (You will not become one of us today.)

(I won't?) I asked in surprise, (Then what-)

(I told you that I was here to remind you of your mission.) Visser One said curtly. (This is my personal Yeerk Pool. Typically my host – your father – is heavily drugged and restrained when I feed, to ensure no risk of…damage.)

(Why are you telling me this?) I asked, my stalk eyes swiveling to and fro. Being in the Pool made me uneasy. I had a horrible feeling about what was going to happen. My insides had turned to mush, and were sloshing around uneasily.

(I am telling you this, Allora, so that you know that these are not normal circumstances.) Visser One said, stepping lithely over to the Yeerk Pool. (Guards, seize and restrain my host. Once I am free of him erect a force field around the pool.)

"Yes Visser." One of the Hork-Bajir answered in _Galard_. He released his hold on me and I collapsed to the floor, too shocked and scared and weak to support myself.

(You're…) I hesitated to finish the sentence. (You're leaving my father?)

(A Yeerk has to eat, my dear.) Visser One said, chuckling. To his guards he added, (If one hair on either of them is harmed you will wish you had never been born.)

The guards placed a weight on Visser One's tail that was similar to mine and held him gently. Visser One twisted his head, leaning over the sludgy liquid. I pulled myself halfway to my feet, but found myself frozen, unable to pull myself up completely. I was fascinated by the sight before me. Fascinated and terrified. I watched as slowly, agonizingly slowly, a small bit of _something _poked out from Visser One's ear. It stretched and reached and grew until with a gently _splat _it fell to the pool.

Visser One sagged, stumbled and fell. He was held up by one of the Hork-Bajir while another erected a force field over the Yeerk Pool. Once their orders had been carried out, the Hork-Bajir dropped their Visser unceremoniously on the ground and joined ranks with the half dozen others in the room.

For a long moment all was silent. I stared with four eyes, still frozen halfway between kneeling and standing, unable to catch my breath. The form of Visser One was panting, as if he had run a long way. He tentatively put out one hoof, then another. As soon as he had gained traction he pushed himself to his feet, swaying as if he had drank too much _hualja _juice. Slowly, he turned to face me, his face a mix of emotions that I had never seen on the Visser's face. Guilt. Fear. Love.

Emotions that I _had _seen on my father's face.

(Allora.) He whispered, and my hearts broke all over again.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: As always, I apologize for the long wait. This chapter has honestly been hell to put together. I really wanted Allora's conversation with Alloran to go perfectly, and it took awhile for me to be satisfied. Please let me know what you think, I was really worried about writing this part!!!**

**Also, just an fyi....you may get one more chapter out of me this month, but after that don't plan on hearing from me until August. I'm getting married in July and will be busy busy busy!**

**Thanks always to my readers and reviewers! Love you!**

**-T.**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

(Allora.)

The word hung there in mid-air, twisted with pain and guilt. My father hesitated, a strange uncertainty settling down upon him. He seemed to be waiting for me to react. I did not move, paralyzed by the waterfall of emotions that threatened to overtake me. The Visser had been right; in our torture sessions I had grown cold. I had built a wall between myself and my captor, who I no longer had thought of as my father. Now, in a single moment and a single word the wall crumbled into millions of pieces.

(Allora?) He spoke again, after what seemed like an eternity. This time there was a question in his voice. His tone was vaguely familiar, and I realized that he sounded like a child calling out fearfully after a bad dream.

Did he think that I feared him? I almost laughed at the thought, giddy from the shock of what was happening. There were many emotions swirling in my mind, but none of them were fear. My father could barely stand. The intimidating, forceful figure that I knew was gone. He was a husk; a shadow of the shadow that my father had been.

(Father.) I finally acknowledged. My thought-speak voice sounded stiffer than I expected, more formal. I couldn't stop staring at his face. It was so different from the face of Visser Three. The contrast was staggering. All of his confidence, his swagger, the dark light that shone from him, was gone.

(Allora I-) He hesitated and struggled to pull himself straighter. I noticed the Hork-Bajir around us tensing up at his every motion, as if they expected him to run for it. Ludicrous. As if he had anywhere to run.

(It is alright father.) I said, my voice still unnaturally wooden, as if the emotions I was feeling did not know how to translate into actual thoughts. Neither of us had moved yet. Father still stood next to the Yeerk Pool, where the Hork-Bajir had released him. I still stood a good ten feet away, near the ring of guards.

(No Allora, it is not alright.) Even his thoughts sounded tired and broken, which mad his next words sting all that much more. (Why did you come here?)

It hurt, the way he said it. As if he did not want me there. As if my actions had all been idiotic. It sounded a little more like the father I remembered; the father that questioned my actions tirelessly.

(I came to save you.) I responded blandly, realizing how foolish I sounded. I lowered my gaze in shame.

(It is an imprudent thing that you do, Allora.) My father said, his voice now sounding as wooden as mine.

(Yes.) I responded.

(You should have left me.) He went on.

(Yes.)

(Your place is at home, caring for your mother and sister.)

(Yes.) I could think of no other response. How could I defend myself? I had been reckless, overcome with foolish dreams. I had abandoned my father's wishes, and forced him to do unimaginable things to his own daughter. I had thought to save him and now, somehow, I was instead being scolded by him for trying exactly that.

(You made a promise.) He said, still looking more sad than angry.

(I didn't enter the military, father.) My thoughts were just a whisper now.

(You realize that he will kill you.) It wasn't a question, and I had no answer. I merely bobbed my stalk eyes in assent. A long silence stretched between us. A large part of me itched to cross the distance between us, to have him take me in his arms in one of those rare hugs that I had longed for as a child. But a larger part of me was paralyzed with shame and disgust. I had ruined the last bit of honor my family had.

(Allora, I must ask you a favor.) My father said, interrupting my self-loathing. (In penitence for your actions.)

(Yes, father. Anything.) I said quickly. There was another pause as my father hesitated. I wondered if thought-speech was difficult for him, after such a long time with no one to talk to. Or perhaps he just did not want to say what he was about to say.

(Father?) I prodded.

(This cannot go on.) He said, (I cannot live like this. It's…unbearable. Allora, you would not believe the things I have seen. The things I have done.) His face twisted into a pained expression then, (Well, perhaps you would.) He amended softly, obviously thinking back on my weeks on the ship.

(I can still save you.) I said, doubt thickening my thoughts.

(Yes, Allora. You can.) My father agreed, (You must find a way to eliminate the Abomination forever. No matter what it takes. I cannot cause any more pain.)

(Yes, of course.) I agreed readily, (But how?)

No answer. My father was silent as he met my gaze. For the first time he took a tentative step forward to close the gap between us, as if that would add to the urgency of his request. I suddenly felt my insides twist with dread.

(No.) I said softly, realizing what it was that he was asking me to do. (I can't.)

(Allora, it is the only way.) He took another step forward and suddenly the distance between my father and I was not nearly enough. I stepped back in horror, nearly running into the line of Hork-Bajir guards.

(No!) I cried, (Never!)

(Allora, please. You must understand. It's the only way.) My father pleaded. I stared at him in shock, trying to make sense of his appeal. After everything I had been through…after nearly getting killed, after being responsible for the deaths of so many, after what had happened to Zendat…and he wanted it to go to waste?

(I came here to save you.) I said.

(Then save me. Set me free from that vile piece of filth.) He looked at the Yeerk Pool in disgust.

(I can't. I can't. I don't even have a way to. What do you want me to do? My tail is weighted down just like yours.) I couldn't believe that I was even discussing this with him. It was insanity!

(You must.) My father said gently. (It is the only way to save me. You will find a way.)

(No. No.) I said, appalled. I began to realize that the feeling of disgust that had nearly overwhelmed me earlier was not directed entirely at myself. My father, who I had loved and revered above all other Andalites, had given up. He had quit fighting. A feeling of nausea trembled through my legs as I absorbed this information.

(Please Allora…) My father asked. He looked so weak, so pitiful. Everything about him drooped, from his shackled tail to his stalk eyes. Even his fur seemed to hang sordidly about him. The pity that I had felt for my father seemed to have evaporated as I watched him beg. This was not my father. This was not the Andalite who took every punishment that the Electorate threw at him without lowering his stalk eyes. This was not the Andalite who had fought bravely across the galaxy for freedom. Of course…his fighting had not been all about bravery, had it? Something twinged inside of me.

(Did you release a Quantum virus on the Hork-Bajir homeworld?) I asked abruptly. My father looked surprised at the sudden change in topic and, for a moment was lost for a response.

(Allora, that is none of-)

(Just answer the question, father.) I said, my thought-speak voice edging between respectful and icy. I could feel that disgust welling up in me again. Who was this Andalite that had tricked me for so long? That had allowed me to believe that there was something good in this universe worth fighting for?

(I can't.) He said, his eyes downcast, the answer written on his face.

(Then I can't save you.) I responded, surprised at the certainty that filled my voice.

"_Gerfash _time" One of the Hork-Bajir said in the usual guttural mixture of languages. My father's attention diverted and he looked up at them with a sickening mix of fear and defeat.

Two Hork-Bajir advanced on my father, taking him firmly by the arms. They were careful with him, not wanting to wound the body that would soon belong to their irritable Visser. Still, they were far from gentle. My father went, his hooves dragging uselessly as they manhandled him. He didn't fight their grips. I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, ready to restrain me if necessary. It would not be necessary.

(If you see them again…tell Jahar and your sister that I love them.) My father said, his voice echoing sadness. For a brief moment I felt an almost overwhelming urge to run to him, to help him. But I stayed where I was, my disappointment rooting me to the floor much more effectively than any Hork-Bajir guard.

I watched wordlessly as my father was dragged back to the pool. I did not move as his head was shoved beneath the roiling surface. As I waited for a new consciousness to overtake the familiar body, I felt a pit of emptiness open up inside of me. All this time I had been acting on the hope of saving my father. Now I knew that it was not just impossible, it wasn't even worth the effort. That knowledge drained the energy from my body more effectively than any torture session ever had. Andalites had died for nothing. Zendat was a _nothlit_…for nothing. Everything was for nothing. And it would be Visser Three's own cruel victory to gloat over that fact.

The transition from Andalite to Yeerk control was easy to see. As soon as the Visser was back in control his muscles seemed to be tauter. There was a glow of life about him that had been lost on my father. Visser Three lifted his head from the sludge and I felt a slight tremble of fear growing out of the emptiness in my stomach. For a long moment he was silent, no doubt thumbing through the memories my father had of the last few minutes. Then his main eyes focused on me.

He smiled cruelly, and I trembled.

I was dragged back to my prison in a haze of pain, both physical and emotional, and was left there. Visser Three had had his fun, and now he no doubt had business of some sort to attend to. I was relieved when Zendat was silent from his side of the wall. The encounter with my father had left me with only the desire to sleep and never wake up. Slowly I allowed myself to drift into unconsciousness, welcoming oblivion.

My dreams were hazy and nondescript. There was no continuity, only flashes of faces and emotions that seared through me painfully. When I finally felt the transition back to wakefulness the emptiness had returned. I climbed painfully to my hooves, aware of the fact that I had slept far more heavily than normal – a result of exhaustion and poor nutrition, I surmised. This knowledge didn't strike me as particularly worrisome or interesting. It was just a fact to be acknowledged. Meaningless.

(Zendat?) I called to my friend. No answer.

(Zendat?) I called again, the faintest glimmer of _something _twanging in my stomach. (Zendat are you there?)  
(Ungh.) A response finally came. I sighed with relief, realizing that the "something" had been concern. I noted this with a bit of sadness. The emptiness had not reached Zendat yet. I still cared about him, and worried about him. That could only mean that he would be the next thing that Visser Three took away from me.

(Zendat, are you okay?) He had sounded groggy, disoriented. Perhaps he had just woken up himself.

(I'm fine.) He said, the thoughts sounding just a bit too forced.

(What happened?) I asked urgently.

(Nothing out of the usual.) Came his bitter reply. There was a pause. (How are you?)

I considered for a moment. How was I? Visser Three had obviously been a bit disappointed in the way I reacted to his ingenious little plan. Clearly he had expected me to be reduced to a pile of mush and emotion. Still, what _had _happened almost seemed worse in a way. The emptiness gnawed at me, as if it were consuming my insides. My hearts throbbed against my chest, as though searching a way out of their wretched body.

(I am fine.) I lied. I could tell by the uncertain silence that he didn't believe me.

(Allora?) Zendat asked after a moment, his voice shaking slightly with rarely shown fear.

(Yes?)

(What's going to happen to us?)

(I don't know, Zendat.) I said with a sigh. (I really don't know.) That didn't seem like enough of an answer, but I didn't know what else to say.

(I don't want to be stuck like this forever. I just want to go home.)

I felt my stalk eyes droop, a pang of guilt shooting through me, stronger than any Dracon Beam. Zendat had been so strong throughout this entire ordeal, never complaining or blaming me. I had almost forgotten that he was, technically, still a child. An _aristh_. He must have missed home terribly.

(I know, Zendat.) I said weakly, (I'm going to do whatever I can to get us out of here.) _Which is nothing. I can do nothing. _I added silently, miserably. That tinge of worry that had pushed itself from the emptiness throbbed again. Despite the apathy that my father's "visit" had bestowed on me, it seemed that I couldn't abandon emotion altogether. I did still care about Zendat. I didn't want him to suffer.

(What can you do?) Zendat said, echoing my thoughts.

(I'll figure something out.) I responded, realizing to my surprise that I meant it. If there was a way out, I would find it. Even if it wouldn't save me, only him.

(He's going to kill me soon. You too, maybe.) He was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but his thoughts were edged in panic.

(He won't succeed.)

(What if he does?)

(Well…) I paused, forcing a smile (then I guess we won't have to worry about what body you're trapped in, will we?)

Zendat fell silent then, and I did as well, glad that I did not need to be strong for him anymore. I felt anything but strong. For what felt like the thousandth time I pondered my situation, searching for an escape that didn't exist. Visser Three had been careful. There was no way out that I could see.

Perhaps it was hours, but it could have just been minutes. Time had become irrelevant to me ever since my internal clock had begun to malfunction. It had been long enough that my escape plans had drifted into a half-conscious web of "what if's" and "maybe's". My mind had sunk into a fuzzy darkness that matched the dim light surrounding me, so when the lights snapped up to full force it was as if someone had sent an electric shock through my brain.

(What!?) I straightened out to my full posture in surprise, my tail trying to arc above my back instinctually, but failing thanks to the tail weight. I blinked all four eyes furiously against the light that pierced through my skull painfully. Visser Three had entered the room, flanked by a Hork-Bajir and a Human.

(Force field down.) He said in clipped tones. He glanced at me with distaste. (Follow.) A humming that I no longer noticed suddenly ceased, making the rooms silence seem to intensify. I stepped out of my prison and away from the force fields range daintily. The Visser scowled at me in a half bored, half amused sort of way. It was a look that scared me. Was the Visser getting tired of our sessions? If that was the case, then my time could be shorter than I had anticipated.

(Where are we going?) I dared to ask as we turned down a hall I had never taken.

(To the docking bay.) Visser Three said coldly. (We have visitors.)


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: The next few chapters will consist of overlap between this story and one of my other fics titled **_**Playing War: The Traitor**_**. The characters introduced in this chapter are the main characters of that fic. If you haven't read it yet and are enjoying **_**Weight of a Name**_** I recommend you check out **_**The Traitor!**_

**Also, just as a side note there is a slight inconsistency with Visser Three's rank at this point in the story. In **_**The Traitor **_**he has already ascended to Visser One. For consistencies sake I will continue referring to him as Visser Three in this fic.**

**-T.**

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We walked through the halls of the Blade Ship slowly, heading towards the docking bay. The docking bay that I had not been to since I arrived on this ship, since that awful day that had doomed Zendat and myself. Why was he taking me there? Was he giving me a chance for escape? Did he want me to see just how close freedom was? Or did it have something to do with these mysterious visitors? What visitors would Visser Three want _me _to see?

The docking bay was larger than I remembered. I had not had much time to get a bearing on my surroundings that day we had been captured. Now, as the doors slid open to admit myself, Visser Three and a single Hork-Bajir body guard I was able to look around properly.

Since we had taken a drop shaft to arrive I assumed that the bay was in the belly of the ship. It seemed to stretch under almost the entirety of the Blade Ship; a vast chamber filled with Bug Fighters and a few newer model fighters that I did not have a name for. And one Andalite fighter.

Visser Three led us to the Andalite fighter, which was obviously the new arrival. The metal of the docking platform was still molding itself to the slightly different shape of the ship. I looked up at the fighter, feeling an unwelcome burst of hope in my hearts. Andalite warriors! Maybe we were saved!

(Computer, lock the docking platform.) Visser Three said, including me in his thought-speak and shooting me a cold, silky smile, (Do not allow unlocking without the appropriate code.)

My hearts fell. Of course Visser Three wasn't so stupid as to allow fully trained Andalite warriors an easy escape. Without the code all of the ships were out of reach, and I had no idea what Visser Three could possibly use as a passcode.

(Come now, Allora,) Visser Three sneered, (prepare to welcome our guests.)

(Why am I here?) I asked, trying to sound cold but unable to prevent a slight wavering in my voice. Visser Three chuckled, but chose not to answer. I was about to press the issue, but just then the hatch opened.

The small flare of hope that I felt sputtered out as two figures leapt from the hatch of the fighter, Shredders held in firing position. They were certainly Andalites, but as they faced us with identical looks of surprise it was clear to me that they were not warriors. One was slightly larger than the other, with a large tail blade to match, but both were obviously younger than I was. Perhaps even younger than Zendat. They were hardly old enough to be _arisths_. Even worse, they were both female.

(Well, well. Two Andalite War-Princesses, coming to fight the good fight,) Visser Three sneered. (The Warriors seem to get younger every day. You scarcely look like you could be out of training. Next thing you know they will be sending their newborns to the battlefield.)

I almost snorted in response, but kept my thoughts to myself. Visser Three thought that these two creatures were true Andalite warriors? They were children! I felt the familiar depression setting in. No one would be saved today.

(Just because we're young, that doesn't mean we don't know how to fight, Yeerk,) the larger of the two Andalites said in a haughty voice that reminded me so much of Zendat's confidence my hearts began to ache. If only we could escape, maybe I could make this right. I looked around the docking bay as Visser Three ordered the Andalite fighter to be searched, but it was hopeless without the codes. What could he have used? I racked my brain for any memory of the sessions between Visser Three and myself that would help.

(So, who is your friend, Visser?) A voice cut into my thoughts and I refocused. The younger Andalite had spoken. She was different from her comrade. Where the larger Andalite was focused, controlled in her obvious rage, the smaller of the two had a look of recklessness to her.

(Ah, of course,) Visser Three said in a mocking tone that made me wince, (Allow me to introduce you to Allora, the youngest daughter of my dear host. She was a scientist on a transport ship we recently undertook. I would have killed her with all the rest . . . or no doubt she would have killed herself. But I took an extra interest in keeping her alive. How could I kill family?)

It wasn't entirely the truth, but it wasn't entirely a lie either. Apparently my "brave" escape wasn't worth mentioning to these young Andalites. I fought back an unexpected wave of humiliation and fury towards Visser Three. It was enough that he had to torment me, but did he have to recount my personal failures to complete strangers?

(Is she…)

(No, of course not.) Visser Three interrupted, (It is much more fun to hear her screams when they belong to her.)

I was about to cut in, to say something snide that would surely result in further punishment, but the return of the Hork-Bajir distracted me.

"Visser." The guard grunted, holding out what looked like a mottled bit of melted metal. The Visser took it, examining it with little interest. Then his eyes lit up as the guard handed him a small computer pad.

(So, my young warriors, tell me, now why would you ruin such a wonderful device and forget to destroy the scientific logs?) He chuckled, looking at the pad, (You know, I suppose this makes up for the Escafil Device that was lost to me a year or so ago. Stolen from me by your filthy race, during an attack. But look what I get in return! An Aldrea's Cube…or at the very least instructions to build one. Placed in my hands by two Andalite youths. Yes, this more than makes up for my losses.)

An Aldrea's Cube! I felt as though someone had hit me with a thousand volts of electricity. As if I had run into the Visser's cruel force field at full force. But the cube was a myth! A failed attempt by scientists to reverse the affects of _nothlit_ism! Could it be that one truly existed? My mind went immediately to Zendat, trapped back in his cell. Trapped in a morph of my body. I had to get those computer plans.

(You lost an Escafil Device?) The smaller Andalite was asking, but I was no longer paying attention. I could save Zendat! The answer was right there, two feet away from me! I looked around frantically, trying to think of a way to get the computer pad. My stalk eyes fell on the nearby Bug Fighters once more. If I could only get the codes, perhaps I could provide a distraction.

I vaguely realized that the young Andalite was still talking to the Visser, in bold tones that made me wince. She was purposefully instigating Visser Three, a rather foolish move. I began paying a little more attention when she mentioned that she was a _nothlit_, though. Formerly a human, one of the Yeerk's newest host species, trapped in an Andalite body. That explained her suicidal attitude, at least. It also may have explained the Aldrea's Cube. She would have use for it, if she was a _nothlit._

(The child that escaped?) The Visser was saying. I tried to tune him out. The codes! I had to think of the codes! Once upon a time, years and years ago I had stumbled upon my fathers personal codes. But that had been sheer dumb luck, and I had been punished heavily by my mother. Besides, that time I had had access to a computer; a luxury that I no longer possessed.

(-hope you are satisfied, Terenia.) Visser Three continued, (You are a worthless specimen of your race. You have succeeded in amounting to nothing, and dying painfully. Guards? Attack.)

From the look on Terenia and the larger Andalite's faces I could tell that the last bit had been said in private thought-speech. The guards that had no doubt been waiting outside of the docking bay poured in, forming a ring around the two Andalite children. Instinctively, I backed up, away from Visser Three and the ring of Yeerk warriors. The two Andalites were forced back against one of the Bug Fighters. If I had ever doubted that they were not warriors the look of terror on their faces now wiped those away.

I had never seen direct battle. It was strange, but after all of the pain I had endured and all of the death that I had caused, I still had never seen a true blade on blade battle. This was no battle, though. This was grounds for a massacre. There were over a dozen Hork-Bajir in the room now. They closed in on the two Andalites, ignoring me entirely. I was of little concern to them and I backed away, making myself as small as possible. Visser Three still held the computer pad, and he was moving away from me now. Out of reach!

The horde of Controllers collapsed on the two Andalites and for several long minutes I could see nothing but a mass of bodies, hear nothing but the clashing of blades and pained, guttural cries. The Andalites cried out too, and I winced as their thought-speak pierced my brain, but I tried to tune them out. My only hope, and these two doomed Andalites only hope, was finding those codes.

(Computer!) I cried, directly my thought speak at the Bug Fighter that the battle was raging under, keeping my thoughts private, (Open hatch. Code RG45263.)

Nothing happened. I cursed silently and tried again.

(Computer, open hatch. Code MS10632.) Still nothing. The battle had fallen back a bit. The Hork-Bajir that were able to backed away from the two Andalites and I could see them for the first time since the wave of guards had descended. The larger Andalite had fallen to the floor. One of her legs was twisted at a horrifying angle and she appeared to be unconscious. The smaller Andalite – Terenia, she had called herself – was swaying as though drunk, black-blue blood flowing to the floor in small rivers.

(Computer, open hatch! Code MS00056!) I cried. Again, nothing. I cried out in silent frustration. That was the last of my father's codes. The battle would be over soon. The Andalites would die. I would return to my cell. The Aldrea's Cube would be lost to Visser Three's greedy clutches forever.

(Computer, code Blade Ship!) I tried desperately. Stupid, frivolous attempts at success. It was an insult to my computer expertise, but I had nothing else to try. (code Bug Fighter, code Hork-Bajir!)

(Teresa Rerin.) Visser Three was saying, (You are no more than twelve human years old. By the standards of your race, you are not even considered a functioning member of society yet. Yet here you are, playing war. If you want to play this game, then you should know that it is a very real game. Your race is known for its tendency to kill members of their own kind. At least one part of your planet is in a constant state of war. You should have no problem carrying out this task. You will kill your comrade, Teresa. Or Allora will kill you.)

I looked away from the Bug Fighter that I had been concentrating on in surprise. What? He wanted meto kill this _nothlit _Andalite? Was that his game? Was that why he had taken me here? For some new brand of torture, pitting Andalite against Andalite?

One of the Hork-Bajir came up behind me, and I stiffened automatically. But he merely bent down and removed the weight on my tail blade. It felt strange being free of the weight, as though my tail might float up and away from me. I kept it low as I advanced towards Visser Three. Wasn't he worried that I would attack him?

(Let her kill me.) Terenia said, her voice thick with hatred and pain. She was looking directly at me, but I only spared three eyes for her. One was still fixed on the Bug Fighter. If there was ever an opportunity for freedom, this was it.

(Computer. Open hatch. Code Foresha.) Nothing. Visser Three was looking from Terenia to the bigger Andalite to me, waiting for someone to jump into action.

(Computer, open hatch. Code Alloran. Code Allora. Code Jahar!)

The hatch slid open gently. I was so caught off guard that I cried out loud. Jahar? Visser Three had used my mothers name as a code? Absurd! But there was no time to ponder the thought processes of the evil Visser. I leapt forward, rushing for the Blade Ship. For a stunned moment Visser Three did not move. Then, slowly, he put the pieces together.

(You!) He cried, turning to glare at me, his tail raised. But I was already moving. I leapt up onto the loading ramp, yanking Terenia's Shredder from her hands. She was busy trying to revive her comrade and together they were slowly making their way on board the fighter. I took aim at the first of two Hork-Bajir who were quick enough to react.

TSEEEW! One Hork-Bajir fell back, unable to walk on only one leg. I re-aimed.

TSEEEEW! That was enough. I turned and ran into the ship, heading immediately for what was vaguely similar to an Andalite helm.

(Get them!) Visser Three shouted, delirious with rage.

(Computer, power up. Emergency power, prepare to launch, immediate Z-Space jump.) I ordered. The hatch shut with a satisfying snap and I felt the engines hum to life, (You two might want to brace yourselves,) I cautioned the two Andalites. I had no idea how well Yeerk ships compensated for thrust.

It took the ship an agonizing ten seconds or so to enter an exit hatch. As soon as it did, the forward thrusters kicked in and I was thrown against the back wall in a sudden burst of speed.

(Ow!) I cried, scrambling to my feet, trying to disentangle myself from the others. By the time I had returned to the helm the view outside was blank white.

(I did it.) I said to myself, in awe, (I escaped.)

I was free. Free of Visser Three's torture. Free of imprisonment. I had successfully escaped Visser Three's Blade Ship. It was the only thing that I had done right in a very long time.

Except, it was not right. Something did not feel right. I should be exultantly celebrating, but that wasn't right. I was not truly free. Visser Three had the computer plans for an Aldrea's Cube. With them he could create a morph capable legion of Yeerks. With them I could save Zendat. I had to get those plans.

With my stalk eyes I looked at the two strangers. Terenia was shouting for her friend to morph away her injuries. I did not know them. One did not even claim to be an Andalite. I knew Zendat. I trusted Zendat. I even loved Zendat.

I had only been free for eight or nine minutes, and already I accepted that it was fleeting. All I had bought us was time. Time to think of a plan that would, hopefully, save my best friend. The two Andalites would not like that fact, but it was inevitable.

I had to return to the Blade Ship to save Zendat. Even if it meant that all three of us would die.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Wow guys, aren't you lucky! Two chapters within a week! Consider it my gift to you before I go off on a brief hiatus. This is a bit of a transition chapter, but expect lots more action coming up! You'll hear from me again in August, probably, when I'm just another old married woman. Anyhow, enjoy!**

**-T.**

**Chapter 22**

(Why did you help us?) The first words directed towards me by the larger Andalite – Jennor, I later learned – were almost insulting. She had successfully morphed and demorphed, repairing her injuries. I noticed that the smaller Andalite, Terenia, had done the same, despite claiming to me a _nothlit _earlier. I pretended not to notice, but my hearts began to beat faster. Perhaps the Aldrea's Cube did work!

(Why shouldn't I?) I responded, not in the mood to be questioned. Especially not for saving their lives, (You are my people.) I turned back to the computer, hoping to end the conversation before it began.

(Who are you?) The Andalite named Jennor would not be swayed. I sighed a little and swiveled my stalk eyes to face her. She was large for a female, just slightly smaller than Zendat's true form. Her fur had the purplish hue of most female Andalite's and her eyes wore the hard arrogance of an Andalite brought up in the military. It was a look I recognized. Despite all of this, it was her tail that caught my eye. It was an oddity, something I had never seen before. The muscles were thick and the blade at the end was twice as large as a normal female's blade.

(That Yeerk filth told you,) my response was carefully neutral as I recounted Visser Three's slightly warped version of events. No need to make it seem worse than it was. (I am the daughter of Alloran-Semitur-Corass. My name is Allora. I was working as a scientist on one of our transport ships when I was captured.)

(Why didn't you try to escape before?) Jennor pressed.

(Good grief, Jennor, let the girl be!) Terenia interjected, looking annoyed, (Who cares? At least she was there when she was or we'd be in pieces right now! At least it's over with.)

(And you,) Jennor rounded on her friend, finally leaving me in peace (what do you think you were doing, telling Visser Three who you were! Now you're marked. You've slipped past him twice now, and that will not make him happy.)

(I'll be fine.) Terenia responded, sounding so sure of herself that I almost laughed. The little Andalite girl thought that she could fight off Visser Three!

(Jennor is right, you know,) I said, unable to keep silent, (The Visser hates losing. Especially to an _aristh_, let alone a human.)

(We're not _aris-)_

(Please.) I cut Jennor off before she could embarrass herself with fabrications, (I am not an idiot, and neither is Visser Three. He was humoring you. Someone of your age has almost no chance of being of warrior status.) It was a lie, at least partially. I had no idea if Visser Three had bought their story of being warriors. If he had then he was more ignorant that I would have thought. I couldn't imagine that my father would buy it, though, and they did share a brain.

Terenia and Jennor lapsed into silence, presumably talking amongst one another. Perhaps deciding my fate. I was too exhausted to care. Instead, I turned to the safety of the computer and checked our current status. The fuel tank was full and it seemed as though someone had just gone through a diagnostic check recently. I was positive that there were Empire trackers on the ship somewhere, but as long as we were in Zero-space they were useless. There was an insufficient amount of food on board, especially for Andalites. Only a few containers of liquid grass, no doubt kept in case Visser Three needed the ship at short notice.

I entered in a random bunch of coordinates that would allow us to stay in Zero-Space for a reasonable amount of time. Several days, at least. That would allow me time to formulate a plan before returning to the Blade Ship. Glancing at the two _arisths_ I saw that they were deep in conversation. Seeing that they had no intent of including me I settled back to look over the data logs in depth. The computer work was soothing, and it eased my frazzled brain, making it easier to forget the pain of my time with Visser Three.

***

It was three days before Jennor and Terenia began to voice their opinions to me. Jennor thought that we should contact the Andalites immediately and bask in the glory of their highly illegal travels. She was under the presumption that it would result in their promotion, rather than their discharge for some reason.

(What if they punish us instead?) Terenia asked, a rare moment where she seemed to be the more reasonable of the two. My first impressions of the _arisths _had not changed over the past few days. Jennor tried to appear stern and upright, the poster child of an Andalite warrior. Terenia was bold and reckless, sometimes saying strange and foolish things. How the two had survived so far, I could not guess.

(We need to return to the Blade Ship.) I said. Both Terenia and Jennor looked at me as if they regretted including me in the conversation.

(Are you missing your father already?) Jennor responded coolly. I ignored the jab.

(Visser Three contains the computer detail for the Aldrea's Cube,) I reminded them, (if he successfully produces one, then you two will be directly responsible for breaking Seerow's Law.)

(If we go back we'll be killed,) Jennor said, although she looked unsettled. She hadn't thought of the loss of the computer files as breaking an Andalite law. I could see that in her eyes.

(Who cares if he has the cube anyways?) Terenia added, (So what?) She winced then, and fell silent. From Jennor's angry look I presumed that she was telling her _exactly _what was so bad about the situation.

"Re-entering normal space," the computer announced calmly in Galard. We had worn out my navigations, and the ship slipped smoothly from white to black. I knew that Visser Three's Blade Ship would locate us within seconds, although it would take quite a bit longer for them to reach us. I had purposefully left the tracking systems unharmed, though I could have easily disabled them.

(We have to stop Visser Three.) I insisted, my stalk eyes scanning over the computer array, checking for irregularities.

(And do what? Tell him to please leave your fathers' head so we can step on him? Oh, and before that, if he'd be so kind to hand over the computer log of the Aldrea's Cube?) Terenia responded with her odd brand of humor called sarcasm. (It's a miracle we survived as it is. I'm not eager to have a repeat of the other day.)

(It's more than that.) Jennor put in. (We're going to run out of fuel eventually. We need to go back to the Andalites sooner or later; it's inevitable. I'd rather be assigned to something where I have War-Prince's backing me up than wandering around space in a stolen Bug Fighter, looking to pick a fight when we're strongly outnumbered.)

(Allora, we'll get your father back eventually. We just have to wait, right now.) Terenia said in a voice that supposed to sound sympathetic. I recoiled against the pity.

(No! Are you complete imbeciles? I'm a scientist by profession, and what's more, Alloran's daughter. If we go back to the Andalite's they won't ever let me anywhere near the Blade Ship, if even a Dome Ship! I'll be stationed in the safest place possible, so that I'm not considered a security risk. This is my only chance!) I did not mention the real reason that I wanted to go back. In three days I had let no mention of Zendat slip into my public thoughts. Those were for me and for me alone. Let the foolish _arisths _think that this was a simple matter of revenge. Let them think that all I wanted was to free my father who could not be freed.

(Allora, I-) Jennor was cut off by the computer, which beeped loudly. She jumped to the controls. I frowned with distaste. I had set myself up as the only person who manned the computer, just as Jennor had set herself up as the makeshift captain and Terenia…well, Terenia was still just an _aristh_. I did not like my position being usurped.

(There's an Andalite ship! Only .75 light years away, and its hailing! Computer open communications.)

(NO!) I cried in frustration. It was too soon! I didn't have a plan yet! We could not contact the Andalites, not now! I could not be shipped back to the safety of the Homeworld! I whipped my tail forward with all of my strength. Jennor moved to block the blow, but it was not aimed for her. Instead, my tail sliced through the metal of the communications array, sending sparks flying and a jolt through my body.

(Allora! What are you doing? How are we supposed to let them know we're not Yeerks!) Jennor cried, aghast.

(You don't.) I said as calmly as I could manage while pulling my tail blade from the wires and scraps of metal that had been the communications systems. You turn the ship around and head back to Visser Three's Blade Ship.)

(Allora, we can't! We'll be killed!) Terenia was looking from me to Jennor in horror.

(Then so be it. I'd rather die having tried than live a failure.) I said with all of the gusto that I could muster.

(No. We're going to find some way to contact the Andalites and get home. I will not lead us into a death trap!) Jennor began to work feverishly at the computer controls. I let her, knowing well that she would fail. I knew computers, after all. I knew exactly where to lay the most critical blow. The system could be repaired, surely. But it would take hours, days even. Not minutes.

(Jennor, if you go back to the Andalite ship it will take several hours of interrogating us, then several hours of talking amongst themselves before they come to a decision about what to do. Have you forgotten your computer file? The Aldrea's Cube is in the Visser's possession. Do you know the implications of that? We need to get those files back.) I reasoned. Jennor ignored me.

(They're powering weapons.) She reported a minute later, without ceasing her work. I walked behind her to look over her shoulder at the screen. The Andalite Ship had gotten much closer, and their Shredder's were at seventy percent.

(Jennor, what are you doing?) Terenia asked nervously.

(I am going to get a connection through,) Jennor said stubbornly. I sighed inwardly and prepared to override the command before she got us killed.

(Computer, initiate preparations for Z-Space jump.) Terenia cut in before I could say anything. I looked at her in surprise. (Make immediate jump.)

"Destination required," the computer said blandly, as if death weren't seconds away.

(Track spacecraft ID: BS021. Visser Three's Blade Ship,) Terenia said. A few moments later we entered Zero-Space once more, safe from the Andalite ship. I felt myself collapse inward slightly from relief and exhaustion. I had done it. I had succeeded. We were going back to find Zendat.

(We are going to die, you realize that, right Terenia? You just ordered us to our deaths.) Jennor said furiously. I turned away from them slightly, going back to my usual position at the computer to let them fight it out. They were not my concern. My concern was Zendat. My concern was saving him, returning him to his rightful form.

(How will we not die?) Jennor was saying icily, (How could we _possibly_ get out of this situation alive?)

(We have this thing on Earth, Jennor. It's called optimism. Please get some.) Terenia responded, equal ice in her voice. I glanced up curiously. It was the first time that Terenia had mentioned her true origins since the battle. In the time I had spent with her I had begun to doubt the claim slightly. She was odd, certainly, but she seemed Andalite enough. Then again, if she had been lying then that meant the Aldrea's Cube may be worthless after all.

(You are from Earth. You are a human,) I recalled out loud, (That is what you told Visser Three. I was unaware you were being honest.)

(Yeah, well. I was human. That was awhile ago, though.) Terenia responded, scuffing her hoof as though she would rather not discuss it.

(Ah,) I said. I wondered how long ago "awhile" denoted, and remembered the human Controllers aboard the Blade Ship. (Humans are the creatures the Yeerks are after now.)

(Yes, they are the creatures the Yeerks are after,) Terenia responded, looking even less thrilled about the conversation.

(Visser Three is the head of operations on Earth,) I commented, remembering his oft-repeated claims of rising to the position of Emperor after defeated the planet.

(No, don't tell her that!) Jennor cried privately.

(He is?) Terenia asked, her stalk eyes snapping around so that she was staring at me with four wide eyes.

(Yes…why?) Had she not known? How strange, all of the _arisths _should have been briefed on the current situation.

(You idiot,) Jennor hissed at me silently. It disturbed me, how this Jennor and this Terenia interacted. I did not like being pulled into it. Jennor was watching Terenia warily, her eyes both furious and concerned. Terenia's expression shifted from surprise to concern to anger, settling on the last with growing intensity.

(We're going straight to that Blade Ship. No matter what. If he's in charge of the invasion, I'm taking him down.) Terenia said, her thought-speak voice shaking.

(Terenia. You are being irrational.) Jennor kept her thought-speech as calm as possible, but there was an underlying tone of urgency to it.

(_I'm_ being irrational!) Terenia cried, turning on her friend, (What about you? I hate to break it to you, Jennor, but I might have liked to know this information!)

(Listen, you two,) I interjected in annoyance, feeling rather like the babysitter for a couple of rowdy Andalite children, (we don't have a choice now. Jennor, you will just have to be quiet and listen to us. You are in charge of this fighter, but you are being overruled. We will be going to Visser Three's Blade Ship and doing what we can to destroy the Visser. Terenia, please try to remain logical about this. Control your emotions. I don't know what kind of a history you have with this planet Earth and these humans, but we cannot allow your emotions to take over.)

Both Jennor and Terenia stopped in their tracks and stared at me for a moment. I was feeling pretty good about myself, for getting the situation under control before an all-out tail fight took place. That is, I was feeling good about myself until Jennor laughed derisively.

(Allora, Visser Three's host is your father. Do you think that _you_ have the mental stamina to lead this mission?) She asked with all the haughtiness of a true Andalite, (Be quiet, scientist. I have seniority over Terenia, and you are no warrior. Beyond that, I have no personal anger against Visser Three beyond the fact that he is a Yeerk. Detestable as that is, I am much more capable of executing a mission without getting involved emotionally. So you will listen to me.)

I felt as though I had been slapped. This child, this _arisths _was going to be ordering _me _around! It was asinine! Terenia was looking at her friend in equal shock and we both merely nodded. _Fine, _I thought to myself; _let her think that she is in charge. I have other things to worry about._

Once Jennor's position on board was secured she shot us both a grim smile. (So. Now that that's settled, let's make a plan to destroy this Yeerk filth.)

Terenia moved forward eagerly, and the two began to discuss. The animosity between the two had been forgotten as quickly as it had come. Strange _arisths_, these two were. Perhaps the military was right not to let females join.

For a minute or two I listened to their plans, but then I tuned them out. Nothing that they thought of was even plausible, and I had my own planning to do. I turned back to the computer and brought up the file that I had been working on for three days now. It was a complicated program, one that required my full attention. I needed to successfully transfer all of the data of the Aldrea's Cube from Visser Three's computer and destroy all evidence. Normally it would be a simple task, made more difficult only by the occasional Yeerk security code. But there was a problem.

I could not trust the data on any sort of disk or computer pad. As I had learned from the original acquisition, those could be taken easily. I needed to ensure that the information got off of Visser Three's Blade Ship or perished. There was only one place that I could think of that would be sure to leave the ship with me, or be destroyed trying.

It would be difficult, maybe impossible. One incorrect line of coding could result in complete destruction. One way or another, though, I had to make it work. I had to get the content of the Aldrea's Cube into the only safe computer aboard the ship.

The translator chip embedded in my skull.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm not going to make any excuses for my lack of updates. I apologize guys. I'll do what I can to give you guys at the very least a chapter every month from here on out. We are nearing the climax of the story, though. I anticipate maybe about four more chapters in total. We shall see.**

**Happy reading,**

**T.  
**

* * *

It had been nearly five days since our grand escape from Visser Three's Blade Ship. I stared at the poorly repaired computer, my head aching with calculations. Depending on the exact course of Visser Three's ship we could encounter him any moment, or it could be another three days. The navigational systems were intact, but their view screens had been damaged in my little show of bravado. I may have been able to fix them, but I did not bother.

Instead, I spent the majority of my time working at the main console. Jennor and Terenia left me alone, for the most part. Jennor obviously deemed herself superior to me, for whatever reason, and Terenia was too busy being self-absorbed to take notice. I highly doubted that either of them would have understood the delicacy, or the importance, of my project even if they had taken interest.

I had to admit that my main concern in our trip was not merely for the destruction of the stolen computer files. The Aldrea's Cube could be recreated, which was certainly what the Visser had in mind. Whether the cube bestowed the morphing power on those who were not _nothlit's_ I did not know, but the root of the technology was there. If he could recreate a device that would restore morphing power to a _nothlit_, surely he could take that information and create his own Escafil Device, which was unacceptable. The Yeerks could not be allowed morphing technology.

And yet…

The Aldrea's Cube presented an undeniable opportunity. If I could get those files for myself, if I could recreate the technology, then I could restore Zendat's morphing power. He would not be forced to remain in an exact copy of my own body, a defeated shell of his former self. It was not a perfect solution – after all, there was no way for him to regain his true form – but it was the best idea I had managed to come up with since our initial capture. Of course, the execution would be somewhat difficult.

First, I had to upload the data into the computer chip that was embedded in my skull. The chip had been implanted with the primary purpose as a translator chip. It had no secondary purpose. That was what I had been working on for the past few days, using a thought-link to modify the parameters of the chip so that it could hold the data. It had been difficult, but not impossible.

Second, I had to access the computer files from one of the Blade Ship's computers, cracking any security that might be in place. That part would not be particularly difficult, but I had a feeling the information would only be available on a select few computers. That meant that I had to make it to the bridge of the ship, upload the data, and delete any components surviving on the Visser's ship. All while at the command center of the Blade Ship.

Finally, I would have to find a way to free Zendat from his cage, assuming he hadn't been killed or infested in my absence.

Oh, and in the meantime I would likely come face to face with my father, with Visser Three, again.

Perhaps Jennor was correct. Perhaps I was a bit too emotionally invested. Perhaps Terenia was correct and I was insane. I didn't care.

"Is suicide part of the Andalite military tactics nowadays?" The human voice tore me from my work. I glanced over at the communications array, where a blue light was flashing, indicating an open broadcast. I had purposefully left communications open, so that we would know exactly when the Blade Ship spotted us. The holographic projector hummed to life and a disembodied head appeared. It was not a human I recognized, although I did recognize the sneer in his voice. I decided that I rather did not like humans.

(Just the destruction of filth like you,) Jennor responded, turning on her military guise. I struggled not to scuff a hoof in derision against her act. She was exactly the type of Andalite my father had hated.

"Typical Andalite. So much pride. So much faith in your people. I look forward to the day that you lose your faith." The human's eyes passed over the cabin, which I knew was being projected back to him. I wondered how pathetic we really looked, two _aristh's _and a computer programmer, hitching a ride towards Visser Three's Blade Ship on a stolen Bug Fighter. The human's eyes fell on me. I stared back steadily, determined not to squirm away from him.

"Ah yes, Visser Three will be quite pleased to have his toy returned to him. You've been quite disruptive lately, child. I fear you will have to be punished."

(Visser Three will not be touching me again.) I said in the strongest voice that I could manage. The human-controller chuckled, but did not respond. Despite myself, I felt a wave of relief when he shifted his attention to Terenia.

"You must be the human. The Visser is eager to speak with you again as well. Please, by all means. Dock and make yourselves comfortable. The Visser will personally arrive to escort the three of you."

The communication cut, leaving only emptiness where the Yeerk's face had been moments before. Terenia and Jennor both looked distinctly uncomfortable, probably wondering why we weren't being shot down immediately. Why we were being allowed safe passage onto a ship we had so recently narrowly escaped. I turned back to the main computer, not wanting to bother with their speculation. I knew why. Visser Three did not expect us to be a threat. He would kill the two _arisths_, and then he would take me back to my cage. Or maybe he would kill all three of us. I shuddered, despite myself, and queued up the computer program. I began working systematically; deleting any history I may have created in my endeavors. The Yeerks could not know my plan. While I worked, Jennor guided the ship into the docking bay, where we sat.

(How long will we have to wait?) Terenia cried, stamping her foot like a young child. I ignored her impatience. It had only been a few minutes since we had docked. I had finished on the main computer and we had left the ship, standing somewhat awkwardly in the empty docking bay. The plan that Jennor and Terenia had concocted was relatively simple, and incredibly crude. They were to hold off Visser Three and his bodyguards for as long as possible while I located and destroyed the computer files. My own personal plan was a bit different.

As if hearing Terenia's exasperation, the docking bay doors slid open. Despite my resolve I felt a cold hand clutch my hearts as Visser Three stepped into the room, flanked by two Hork-Bajir. A pitiful part of me that I ignored longed to call out for my father.

(Well well well. If it isn't the three miscreants, back for round two.) The Visser said with a smirk. He advanced forward, and each step seemed to reverberate through my body. I glared at him with all the hatred I could muster, trying to drown out all fear, focusing only on my goal. _This is for Zendat_, I reminded myself.

The one thing that made the confrontation easier was that Visser Three was not concentrating on me. For once, he had eyes for another. His main eyes bore down on Terenia.

(Teresa. A pleasure that you should make your return. I don't believe that I got a chance to properly thank you for the details on the Aldrea's Cube. Quite a fascinating device, really.)

I wondered what that meant. How far into the analysis of the data had his scientists been able to get? Had they discovered the secret behind the morphing technology?

(I took the liberty of looking up your status back on Earth) The Visser continued, (It's been nearly four of your years since you left our next conquest. That would put you at how old? Fourteen, in human years? Such a child. Far too young for the hardships of war.)

(Shut up.) Terenia responded. I was sure that she was trying to sound brave, but her voice was shaking.

(Wouldn't you like to know how your brother and sisters are doing, Teresa?) The Visser asked with a look as innocent as the evil creature could ever come up with, (I could provide you with all of the information you desire.)

(My name is Terenia. And information in exchange for what? My volunteered slavery under your Empire? My death? Well I have already accepted that I will die today, so you will have to drive a harder bargain than that.)

(Sooner die than risk assisting a rising Empire? That isn't what your actions before stated. You had the choice of dying or of submitting to us. You chose to submit.)

(We escaped.) Terenia pointed out. I watched them banter back and forth, but my mind was elsewhere. In my head I was mapping out the path to where Zendat was most likely to be, the path to the bridge, the return trip…

(That is not the point I am trying to make, child.) The Visser scowled. A long uneasy silence followed, in which Terenia seemed to be at a loss. The Hork-Bajir that flanked Visser Three glared at us, sizing us up as if we were their next meal. Two Hork-Bajir and one Yeerk Visser. It was likely that these were the best odds we would get. I was about to suggest to Jennor that we begin enacting our plan when Terenia took a step forward, separating herself from us.

(I want to know what happened to my family.) She said.

(What?) I cried privately, turning all four eyes to her in utter bewilderment. What was she doing?

(Excellent,) the Visser's grin made my stomach churn, (follow me, all of you.)

Without another word the Visser turned and strode away, his hooves echoing on the metal floor. Terenia followed, not sparing Jennor or I a backwards glance. She kept even her stalk eyes forward, a look of determination on her face. Jennor fell into step next to her, her fury evident. That left me, for a brief second forgotten, as they walked ahead of me.

What was the human thinking? She was playing right into whatever evil trap the Visser had concocted. My stalk eyes fell on the ship we had just left and for a moment I desperately wanted to escape. If Terenia was so easily swayed by Visser Three's empty promises how could we possibly hope to succeed on our mission?

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I had come this far. Terenia's muddled history was not my concern, no more than Jennor's bravado or even Visser Three's evil plans. My concern was getting Zendat out alive, and getting the data for the Aldrea's Cube. If that meant that I had to play along for the time being, then so be it.

Exhaling slowly, I fell into step behind Terenia and Jennor. Together, we followed Visser Three down a long hall to a part of the ship that I had never been to. The walk was silent, although I had a feeling that Visser Three and Terenia were conversing. After several minutes the Hork-Bajir guards stopped in their tracks. Visser Three ignored them and continued forward with Terenia.

(Hey-) Jennor said, moving to follow.

"No _fragresh_," one of the Hork-Bajir said gruffly, stepping in her path. Jennor raised her tail blade threateningly, but the Hork-Bajir only laughed as Terenia and Visser Three disappeared into a room that sealed shut behind them.

"Now we play," the other Hork-Bajir said in surprisingly clear Galard. He must have given some sort of signal then, because suddenly down the hall in both directions came a solid line of Hork-Bajir.

(This is a slight diversion from the original plan,) I commented, backing up against the wall and raising my tail.

(I had noticed as much,) Jennor said tersely. The hallway that had moments ago seemed rather wide was suddenly clogged with advancing Hork-Bajir. It was too close of quarters to use Dracon weapons, but their blades looked sharp enough.

(Alright, what's our new plan?) I asked, taking a swing at one of the Hork-Bajir bodyguards. He grunted and blocked my tail easily. Not for the first time I wished that I had some semblance of military training.

(Same as before, just without Terenia) Jennor said, grunting as she used her tail to remove a Hork-Bajir's wrist.

(You'll be massacred!) I cried.

(No,) Jennor took another swing, but the blow was blocked, (he doesn't want us dead. Not yet at least. Visser Three is just buying time with Terenia. If we die, he'll want to be the one to do it.)

(How do you know that?) I demanded. The first line of Hork-Bajir had come within striking distance, and I jumped back against an oncoming blow.

(I don't, but we have no other choice,) Jennor said, (Now, go! Hurry! Get to the computers, delete the files!)

I hesitated for a second, just enough time for the tidal wave of Hork-Bajir to come crashing down on us. Then, there was no time for trying to work out what I should be doing. All I could manage was to slash my tail and push through the horde of leathery skin and deadly blades. All I could think as I forced myself forward was one thing: _Zendat. Zendat, I'm coming for you._

I pushed on through the onslaught, ignoring when my enemies lay open gashes in my flesh, thrusting myself through the crowd, leaving Jennor to contend with the attackers on her own.

_I'm coming Zendat. I'm coming._


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Two chapters left! Thank you once more for being on board with me despite frequent absences! I am aiming to have this story finished before the end of March, as I have several other projects I want to work on. Enjoy!**

**-T**

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**Chapter 24**

The noise was terrible. Hork-Bajir growls and Taxxon screeches filled my ears. Blood in various hues splattered the walls. Pain shot through my body as I pushed through my injuries and the crowd, not fighting, but fleeing the scene.

The hallway had turned into a bottleneck. Hork-Bajir were trying to get in on the fight, the hopelessly outnumbered fight between Jennor and dozens of Yeerks. They all wanted to have their say in the battle, or at the very least get a look at the doomed Andalite girl. It was sickening. I turned away from it. Several Hork-Bajir recognized me and called out. A few lay deep gashes down my side, but most backed away from me. I was Visser One's pet, after all, and they were unsure whether or not they were allowed to attack me.

When I broke through the throng of advancing warriors the halls were surprisingly empty. Leaving the hordes behind me I raced down semi-familiar passageways, my hooves clopping loudly on the metal floor. By the time I reached the entrance I was looking for I was gasping for breath. Blood mixed with sweat, beading down my flanks in blue rivulets.

(I made it,) I gasped, scarcely believing it. I felt guilty for abandoning Jennor in battle, but she was a trained warrior. Or at least, that was the path she had chosen, even if she was still merely an _aristh_. She knew the dangers of the mission, and besides, I had my job to do, which was no less dangerous. Taking a deep breath I approached the computer pad that allowed entrance into the room. It was protected with a security code, of course, but I broke it easily enough. The door slid open, allowing me inside.

For a moment I was blinded by the shocking brightness of the white room. It had been awhile since I was in the sterile experiment room that had been my home for so long. The place I entered now looked almost exactly like my prison, save a few small details. There was no evil box with those horrible red and blue buttons. The room itself was a mirror image of the one I was used to. Still, my stomach clenched as I entered. It was all too easy to imagine myself back behind the force field. Especially since a carbon copy of myself was already there.

(Zendat,) I breathed, rushing over to his side. I was cautious not to come too close to the field, which sizzled with energy. Zendat looked awful. Evidently my absence had not been taken well by Visser One, and Zendat had caught the worst of it. His body was covered with deep bruising, and crusted blood was caught in his fur. It was a strange out of body sort of experience, seeing my body battered so and knowing that it was Zendat who had suffered.

(Allora?) He gazed at me blearily and I saw that one of his main eyes was damaged. The pupil was oddly dilated and tended to drift off, unable to focus.

(Hold on, Zendat, I'm getting you out of here,) I said, moving away from the disturbing sight and to the computer console. My fingers worked furiously while my stalk eyes watched the door. I did not look at my fallen comrade.

(I thought…you had abandoned me,) Zendat said, and I heard a scraping noise as he pulled himself to a standing position.

(Of course I didn't.) I said.

(You should have.)  
(What?) My fingers paused momentarily and one stalk eye swung around to meet his empty gaze. (Of course I couldn't leave you. We're in this together.)

(Allora, you could have escaped. You'd have been free. Now…)

(We're still going to be free, Zendat.) I insisted. There was a beeping noise and the force field came down. I turned back to Zendat and helped him over the threshold.

(Allora, I am dying. The wounds he inflicted are too great. This body is broken.)

(It's okay,) I said firmly, pulling him forward. He moved awkwardly, putting minimal weight on his left hind leg, (it'll be okay. Zendat, I have a plan. I found an answer.) I forced myself to look him in his mismatched main eyes, (I found a way to get you out of that body.)

(Impossible…) Zendat said, but he followed my lead, moving forward.

(Not impossible,) I insisted, (new technology. I've seen it. Visser One has the information; I'm here to erase it. But before I do…I can save you. Let's go.)

It's impossible to describe how I felt as I saw hope fill Zendat's face. He pulled himself up straighter, wincing against, but bearing, the pain. I removed the weight from his tail and he held it high, even if it was just a girl's tail. He was battered, beaten, abused. But he was not defeated. And I had given him the hope to go on.

It's the best I had felt in years.

(Tell me what to do,) Zendat said.

(Follow me.) And we were off running, slower than I would have liked, heading straight for the bridge of the ship. As we ran I filled Zendat in on my days away from the Blade Ship, on Jennor and Terenia, and on my plan. The few Yeerks that were in the halls gave us a wide berth, looking either too scared or too distracted to attack us. When we finally arrived on the bridge, it was practically deserted. There was a single Taxxon at the computers, who I disabled with ease.

(Where is everyone?) Zendat asked, looking nervous.

(Visser One has probably called him to the section of the ship where the battle was,) I said, (I do not know what his plans are. Jennor must have been overwhelmed by now, but there is still the Terenia girl. I am sure he has some sort of scheme.)

(Well, it works in our advantage.)

(That it does,) I said, using my tail to push aside the unconscious tail and taking his place at the computer. I pulled up the ship-board history and searched through it for recent additions. I had never been so glad to be a computer technician before. I found the files with relative ease, and quickly went to work cracking the security codes. While I worked Zendat leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.

(How long do you have?) I asked.

(I don't know,) Zendat said, wincing, (I have not lost too much blood, though it looks like I have. I fear I may be bleeding internally. They could have fixed all of my injuries easily, but they did not. I guess I'm not as special as you.)

(I'm not special,) I grunted.

(I was joking, Allora,) Zendat said, with a shadow of a smile. Warmth filled my chest as I realized that he was trying to make me feel better, even while he stood dying.

(You shouldn't give up, you know,) Zendat said after a moment of silence. I had almost broken through the security code, and he had to repeat himself before I realized that he had spoken.

(Give up? I'm not giving up. I'm getting you out,) I said.

(No, I don't mean on me,) Zendat said. The warmth I had felt turned to ice.

(He's a mass murderer. I cannot accept that,) I responded coldly. Suddenly the computer screen changed, showing a scrolling list of new, Andalite code. I was in. I quickly entered in the sequence for a transfer, and when it prompted me for the location I gave it the code for my translator chip. A warning message popped up, which I ignored, telling the transfer to begin.

(He loves you,) Zendat insisted.

(I do not want to talk about it,) I said firmly. Silence fell between us once again. I waited impatiently for the transfer to finish. Despite my words, I could not help thoughts of my father from entering my mind. His true self had been revealed to me, and I had written him off. Did that make me as bad as he was? As bad as the Yeerk that enslaved him? After all, I had blood on my hands. All of those Andalites in the transport had died because of my selfish decisions. At least my father's crimes had been in the name of a good cause.

"Transfer complete" an automated voice said in Galard. I took a deep breath. The knowledge I needed to save Zendat was now embedded in my skull, retrievable only by me. I quickly set about finishing my mission and deleting all relevant files.

(We need to get to the docking bay.) I said as soon as the files were deleted. A sense of satisfaction overcame my doubts. My father was irrelevant. He had made his decisions, and all they had done was cause me pain. It was time for me to live my own life. We would get off of this ship, together. I would save Zendat. Then we would decide what lay in our future. I knew one thing for sure, though. It would not involve foolhardy attempts to save a father that had been beyond saving years ago.

(Let's go then,) Zendat said, reaching out a hand. I took it, taking comfort from his touch, and we left the bridge together, tails at the ready, prepared to fight or flee to our freedom.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Second-to-last chapter here. I hope you enjoy, although I have a feeling I may get a little hate for this one. Oh well, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Aiming to finish this fic up in the next week or so. Don't worry, I'm sure I'll come up with another crazy fic idea before long. :)**

**Happy reading,**

**T.  
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**Chapter 25**

Once, what felt like eons ago, I had promised my father that I would never join the military. Despite years of desperate dreams of freeing my father, I had heeded his wishes. I had not joined the military, at least not directly. Now, though, as I raced to battle with Zendat, I found that I was no better off than my warrior _nothlit _friend. I was no better off than Terenia, who had abandoned us to Visser One, or than Jennor, the proud Andalite who thought that her people could do no wrong.

I remembered Zendat's easy joking when we had first met. The way I had scoffed at his obvious youth and ignorance. The fervent belief that he would triumph in this war had shaken me. I had laughed at him, but in the end it was that very belief that drew me to him. In a world of loss you cling to any strand of hope that presents itself.

Now, Zendat and I walked together, hand in hand, towards inevitable death, and I saw the spark of that belief return to him. We were so close – all we had to do was survive this one battle and we would be free. I could recreate the Aldrea's Cube, Zendat could regain his morphing capabilities and return to the war. And I…

What would I do? After speaking with my father I felt nothing but emptiness where there had once been love and devotion. He had committed genocide. He had asked me to kill him. He was every bit as deserving of his disgrace as the Electorate had made him out to be. And yet…Zendat thought that I should not give up. Zendat, who had never given up, was trying to give me his strength even as he was dying.

(Are you ready, Allora?) Zendat asked. He was watching me with a bloodshot stalk eye. His flanks were slick with sweat. It was deeply disturbing to watch. He was in my body, and I was watching my body die.

(I am prepared,) I said. We had made our way relatively unnoticed from the bridge. The halls were ominously empty, a fact likely to be blamed on the battle I had left behind. We had reached the end of the hallway, and I knew from my initial trip that they would open on the last place that I had seen Jennor. I prepared to issue the command to open the door, but stopped abruptly when Zendat stumbled.

(Zendat, are you alright?) I reached a hand out to steady him.

(Yes,) Zendat said, although he looked far from alright. His breathing was shallow and I could tell that every move he made was painful. The hope that had alighted his eyes when I first mentioned the Aldrea's Cube seemed to be fading.

(Allora,) Zendat said in a strained voice, (we need…to talk.)

(What?) I asked, glancing at the door nervously. Our only chance was the element of surprise – an element that would not last if we waited.

(I was serious, before) Zendat said. I focused my main eyes on him, trying to look him in the eye. It was difficult. One of his eyes was not focusing correctly, and dried blood caked his nostrils distractingly.

(Serious about what?) I asked.

(Do not give up on your father.)

(I said I do not want to talk about it,) I said abruptly. This was hardly the time or the place to have a heart to heart about my father.

(No,) Zendat winced as he shifted on his hooves, (you have to listen to me. What your father did was terrible, and he does not deserve a daughter as wonderful and faithful as you. But you have spent your entire life trying to save him.)

(I was trying to save him because I thought that he was good,) I said, (I was wrong.)

(No…) Zendat's hand shook as it dropped my own, (perhaps you are right and he does not deserve your forgiveness or rescue. The reason you cannot give up is not because you need to save your father, it is because you need to save yourself.)

(What?) I inhaled sharply, feeling as though Zendat had smacked me with the flat of his tail blade. Before I could recover from his jibe Zendat pressed the palm of his hand against my cheek in a soft kiss. My stomach flipped and I felt lightheaded as he went on.

(I love you, Allora,) he murmured, (I love that you came back for me. I love that even now you are trying to think of a way to save me. Even…even if it is too late. I do not want you to lose that passion when I am gone.)

(What do you mean when you are gone?) I pulled away from his touch abruptly, (you are not going anywhere.)

(Allora, I told you. I am dying.)

(The Aldrea's Cube. I can fix it. I can give you the morphing power. I can-)

(No,) Zendat shook his head sadly, (there is no time. This body will not sustain me. I had hoped, but we need to be realistic.)

(Zendat, that isn't fair,) I felt as though my hearts would burst from aching, (I cannot do this without you…)

(Yes, you can,) Zendat said with a soft smile, (because you are strong. Stronger than you even realize. But you have to promise me that you won't stop fighting.)

(I can't,) I said, (it's impossible.)

(Do it for me, Allora,) Zendat glanced towards the closed door, (you have an opportunity to escape this ship. You can even build the morphing technology and give yourself that power. Use that to your advantage. I can buy you time.)

(What do you mean? You want me to run away again?) The idea sickened me, (I just returned! For you! I could have gone back to the Andalites, but instead I came back for you. You cannot leave me!)

(Promise me, Allora) Zendat said, and for a moment he had the voice of a true warrior, not a scared _aristh _facing imminent death. I flashed on my father, years ago, requesting a promise that I stay away from the war. Now Zendat was requesting the exact opposite. That I continue to fight, even if I must do so alone.

(Zendat…)

(Promise me,) he repeated, (that you will free your father. You will destroy the Abomination. You will work to right the wrongs committed by our kind.)

(I…I promise,) I said weakly, my mind scarcely able to grasp the magnitude of his request, barely able to process what was happening. Zendat smiled as I consented, and my hearts broke.

(Thank you Allora,) his hand moved back to my cheek, making my stomach flutter, (my only regret is that I will not have more time with you.)

Zendat dropped his hand then and turned, facing the door. He stood tall, with his tail upright despite the obvious pain he was in.

(Computer, open,) Zendat commanded before I could stop him. The door slid open silently. Immediately the sound of Hork-Bajir cheering met my ears. I searched the crowd desperately for Jennor. When I finally spotted her my breath caught. She was backed against one wall, surrounded by at least seven Hork-Bajir. Her tail moved with lightning speed, but it was no use. There were too many of them! When one Hork-Bajir fell another would merely take its place.

(Zendat, you can't go in!) I cried, turning to him in desperation. We had not been spotted yet. The Hork-Bajir were too immersed in the battle, cheering their comrades on as though it were a game of driftball.

(I must,) Zendat said, squaring his shoulders. One stalk eye turned to focus on Allora, (remember your promise.)

(Zendat, don't!)

(Goodbye, Allora. I love you,) before I could stop him, Zendat mustered all of his remaining energy and leapt over the threshold, attacking the Hork-Bajir from behind.

(I am the servant of the people,) he said, and it was all I could do not to cry out, to demand that he stop.

(I am the servant of my prince, I am the servant of honor,) his tail sliced through the neck of a Hork-Bajir, beheading it. Now the Hork-Bajir were turning, suddenly aware of the new threat.

(My life is not my own, when the people have need of it.)

Jennor cried out as she took a blow to the side of her head. She staggered, then fell, unconscious. The Hork-Bajir broke out into cheers, turning to face their new foe.

(My life is given for the people,) Zendat cried out as a Hork-Bajir laid a deep gash in his chest. Blue-black blood spurted from the wound, and it was all I could do not to run in after him.

(For my prince,)

With every bone in my body I wanted to rush in and save him, to help him with the fight, but I knew that it was useless. There were too many Hork-Bajir, and if I died it would invalidate Zendat's sacrifice.

(My honor,) Zendat raised his tail blade to his own throat as the Hork-Bajir descended upon him. As I looked on, he met my gaze, eyes glowing with fiery determination.

(And for you.)

I watched in horror as Zendat twitched his tail.


End file.
